Endless Love
by Lula1
Summary: Ardeth's loved ones are being targeted for murder. Rick, Evy and Ardeth learn the secrets of the Songhoi. Bahir,Jonathan and Alex join the desert operation. Chap 19 is up! Please R&R.Thanks! Chapter 20 coming soon..
1. Default Chapter

Title: Endless Love  
  
Rating: PG-13...probably be R later.  
  
Author: Lula  
  
Summary: Ardeth's life has been devastated, but can retribution bring him the love he has lost....  
  
Disclaimer: I do not own The Mummy characters, but I do own the various other characters integrated into the story.  
  
Special Note: Thanks to my buddy, Deana, for being my beta...I thank you more than I can say! Also, thanks to Karri, who always offers the ever- important moral support and creative ideas that never cease to amaze me.  
  
ENDLESS LOVE CHAPTER 1  
  
Theirs was a never-ending love, living their lives to the fullest and greatly blessed by many children and grandchildren. They were in the golden years of their lives. Now, as time was coming to a close for her beloved husband, great was her suffering. Oh, how she wished that she had gone before him! Her one true love was leaving her behind. Tears flowed freely down her aged face as she embraced him to comfort him in his suffering. His breathing was labored and shallow; his body grown weak from the illness that had overtaken him. He had been such a strong and virile man throughout his life. Now, he lay before her, weak as a newborn. She cried out in anguish, lamenting his suffering. Praying to God that he would let her share his suffering to lessen the pain he was in. Her cries hurriedly summoned two of their daughters to their side. They knew that their father's life was near its end. They ran to gather all the other siblings and their children to surround their precious father and grandfather in the last moments of his life.  
  
REFLECTIONS  
  
Together, they had shared many hardships and many joyous moments in the 45 years they had been husband and wife. They had been blessed with 10 children, 38 grandchildren and 5 great-grandchildren. Through it all, she had never once regretted her life with him. Although she was from a vastly different culture, she had learned the ways of his tribe and embraced his culture and thrived. Many were against her in the beginning, but through the years, they had developed a great respect for the woman who would walk away from her former life of luxury and convenience and willfully embrace the hard life of their tribe, all for the love of their leader. She had proven her love and her loyalty. He had no doubt of her love, but had often worried about the hardships that she endured. In her youth, she had been a beautiful young woman who had blossomed into the most beautiful creature he had ever laid eyes on. But the beauty that he saw was not just on the exterior. Yes, her physical beauty was beyond compare, but her inner beauty was that much more. It was that beauty that had won over his people and their trust. It was that beauty and inner strength that had bound their two hearts together as one. Thru the past weeks of his illness, they had much time to talk of their life and how blessed they had been. He reminded her of the many times she would playfully butt heads with him in private. How they argued sometimes over issues, and the wonderful way they had of making it up to each other. He remembered her beautiful long raven locks flowing in the hot breeze, her eyes of violet with the tiny flecks of gold that entranced him. The lovely curves of her body that were hidden in the dark robes, only for his eyes to behold. He told her of how he loved to watch her play with their children as well as all the children of the tribe. She loved children as much as he did and they were both very attentive and caring to all the children of the tribe as well as their own. He told her how wonderful it had been to embrace her and make love to her.  
  
She reminisced how he had been so strong, brave and true. He exemplified what a true leader should be. He was a strong warrior, a brave man, a loving husband and father. But most of all, he was a just Chieftain, a man who anyone could look up to. Even though his enemies loathed him, they still admired him in their own strange way. He was a man to be counted upon, one who protected the helpless, the elderly, women and children. His men had great admiration for him and looked up to him and never went against his word. Yes, there were times when his chosen warriors would question him, howbeit; they had all been his dear friends from childhood. But not even one of them would question his orders without due cause. She remembered all the times she would stay in their tent at nights and wonder if he was alright. Strange, she was so bound to him that she could feel his moods, his very thoughts at times. It frightened her more than once throughout her life with him. She remembered of one time when they were watching over the dread city, and there was a great stirring in the sand and air; she suddenly felt cold all over and her heart began to pound. She knew there was trouble and ached to know if her husband would be alright. Soon she found out that there was great trouble on the horizon. More than once did she remind him that she loved him more than the day before, and to her, that seemed impossible. But with each new day, her love grew more and more. He was her very breath, her life, her meaning for living; her Heart. She reminded him of how beautiful he looked anytime she laid eyes upon him. It didn't matter if he was covered in sand, blood, or sweat, his beauty shone through. She loved the way his long black curly locks would grace his masculine shoulders. His magnificent sculptured features; those beautiful dark eyes that had a language all their own, that lovely dark olive skin. Oh, how she loved to behold him whether he was windblown and tousled or perfectly groomed. He was beautiful to her in every way. She loved to watch him sleep. Many nights she would stay up and look upon his lovely form in the moonlight and shadows, remembering their night of unbridled passion, she would caress his cheeks, kissing him, loving to snuggle against his warm bare body. Yes, she had been truly blessed. Now, she looked upon him as she cradled him in her withering arms. Even in his great age and present illness, never had he been more handsome to her. Even his wrinkles from age and hardship of the desert had done nothing to change his affect on her. Afterall, he was her heart, and true love knows no end.  
  
THE CIRCLE OF LIFE  
  
He opened his eyes and gazed upon all his loved ones surrounding his bed. He looked upon each face earnestly; his sons, daughters and grandchildren. His thoughts brought him back through the years to a time when his children were small; they had been like steps gracing a lovely stairway. He thought back on how he had prayed to Allah that he might live to see all his children grown. Yes, he thought, Allah had truly answered his prayer. Now he looked at all his grandchildren. He wished he could see them all grow up as well, but that was not to be. He could accept that, he and his wife had taught their children well. They were all loving parents to their own children and it was due to the loving example that had been set before them. He spoke quietly to his sons and daughters, telling them how proud he was of them and how he loved them so. Tears welled up in his eyes, as he did not want to leave them, but he knew his time had come. His sons and daughters could not contain their tears and each in their turn embraced their father for one last time. He told his grandchildren how much he loved them. They were crying as well, as they loved their grandfather dearly. His beloved wife, children and grandchildren silently listened as the great patriarch spoke. He thanks Allah for blessing him so richly with the greatest of riches; his family. He bestowed a blessing upon them all. The shadows of death were coming very quickly now and he turned to look at his lovely wife, and gazed into her eyes. Oh! How parting from her was such sweet sorrow! He told her, "You are my life, my love, my heart. Thank you for filling my life with joy." He gazed around at his large family one more time and then looked once more at his wife and said, "Look my love, our circle of life." With tears streaming down her face, she smiled and nodded in agreement, being at a loss for words. She laid her face against his and said, "I love you, my husband, my soul mate." With this said, she gently pressed her lips to his. As she did, he breathed his last breath into her.  
  
THE BEGINNING  
  
The crescent moon shone over the sand dunes as a guide for the warriors; light where there was no light. It didn't matter, however, as they were used to the darkness of the desert night.  
  
Ardeth Bey looked out across the vast emptiness before him, but it didn't even measure close to the emptiness he felt inside himself. For a long time now, the elders of his people were pressuring him to take a wife again. He was not ready to take another wife, as his heart had not healed from the loss of his wife and two children that had been brutally taken from him seven years before.  
  
Ardeth had been so happy back then. He reminisced. Ardeth's wife, the daughter of the commander of the 8th tribe, was such a beautiful girl, not only in looks but in heart as well. Bahiyaa was her name and their marriage had been an arranged one from birth, but this was not a problem as they had grown up knowing each other and loved each other from a very early age. They were blessed with two beautiful daughters and were hoping for a son in the near future. However, that was not to be, as there had been an attack on the village when Ardeth was on watch duty at Hamunaptra. Usually, Ardeth's heart was not at ease when he was on watch, but that night was even worse. He was unable to keep still, his heart was racing and he began wondering if something else was wrong. However, they didn't receive any messages from their village of any danger, which was a relief to them. They later found out that no messages came because of the surprise attack. Ardeth was in an uproar all night. Constantly pacing, not knowing what made him that way. His second, Bahir, watched Ardeth pace back and forth.  
  
Bahir gently placed his hand on Ardeth's shoulder and Ardeth spun around about to come back with a raised arm in response. When Ardeth saw who it was, his head dropped to his chest. He started to walk away, but Bahir stopped him.  
  
"Ardeth, what is bothering you so terribly tonight? All is quiet in the city," Bahir said.  
  
All Ardeth could do was shake his head. He couldn't even say what he was feeling. Many thoughts were racing through his mind.  
  
Bahir grabbed Ardeth and began to shake him gently. "Ardeth! What is wrong with you!"  
  
"I don't know," Ardeth said. "I just know something is very wrong, I can't stop my heart from racing."  
  
Ardeth spun on his heels and started to walk off when suddenly Bahir was joined by Shariyf, another of his chosen. They charged after him in the loose sand, trying to catch up with him. Finally, they caught up when Ardeth had just finished saddling his horse. Bahir grabbed Ardeth's shoulder and spun him around. Ardeth jerked his shoulder loose.  
  
"I know something is wrong, something very wrong," Ardeth said. "I need to get back to the village to see if everything is alright." He turned to Bahir. "You are my honored first. All of you are my best and most trusted warriors. I trust you with the city and the responsibility of it. You do not need me here. I have to know, I have to be sure." Without waiting for an answer, he spurred his horse and took off in the direction of the village.  
  
Shariyf and Bahir stood there looking at their leader and friend with great concern. They knew that he was very intuitive and never took his concerns lightly.  
  
"Did you see his eyes?" asked Shariyf.  
  
"Yes," replied Bahir, with a feeling of dread in his heart. He knew that look. They returned back to the rest of the men and contemplated what was taking place.  
  
DARKNESS AND DREAD  
  
In the distance, an ominous glow could be seen as Ardeth approached the last remaining dunes to the oasis where his village was. He raced his horse as fast as it could go. The fire and acrid smoke swirled in the air and he could see very little movement in the village.  
  
Ardeth jumped off his horse and ran towards one of his warriors who was trying to get up off the ground. He shook the warrior and yelled loudly "Who did this?!" The warrior tried to respond, but was gasping for breath. Ardeth looked him over quickly and noticed that his own hands were now covered in the warrior's blood. He had been stabbed with a scimitar through the abdomen and would soon die. Ardeth bowed his head at this knowledge and gently laid him back down.  
  
The warrior opened his eyes once more and locked them to Ardeth's. He managed to get out a few words in a whisper. Ardeth bent close to the warrior and heard the words that he dreaded to hear.  
  
"Forgive me, my Chieftain, we couldn't stop them. They took your wife and children's..." with that said, he took his last breath, and lay with his eyes still open.  
  
Ardeth could not contain the emotions thundering through his mind. He shook the dead warrior as if hoping to get an answer. "Who! Where?" he screamed. He got up and ran amongst the other tribesmen who were busy helping the wounded. He looked frantically at them, not knowing who had done this. All the people could do was bow their heads, as all knew what awaited their Chieftain at the other end of the village.  
  
All along the wide pathways, through the rows of tents, one could see the dead or dying. As he approached the end of the village, he noticed his tent was not even touched. Most had been burned, but there were many that were still standing. All around him, he could hear cries of anguish and mourning. as he approached his tent, his mother came towards him. She grabbed him and he spun around ready to attack. Ardeth saw that it was his mother and was relieved to see that she had survived. But what he saw in her eyes foretold that an even greater sorrow awaited him.  
  
She tried to stop him from going any further, but he was much too strong for her weakened elderly body to handle. She called out his name gently. "Ardeth, please don't," was all she could get out and doubled over in tears. As he neared the entrance to his tent, he saw the blood on the outer tent wall. They had spelled out something with the blood. His eyes grew wide as he read the message. It read, "You will know pain, Medjai. Enter and behold."  
  
Ardeth's heart was filled with dread knowing that his worst fear had come to pass. He opened the tent flaps and lost all ability to stand in the face of what he beheld. His wife and two daughters had been suspended, arms above their heads, on three of the center poles of the tent. His little girls had been hacked to death with scimitars. His beloved wife had been ravished over and over, beaten, and had been disemboweled. Blood was spattered everywhere as evidence to the heinous crime that lay before him.  
  
Even Ardeth, a battle hardened warrior as he was, could not contain the raw emotions of pain and grief that overtook him. He lay on the carpet, soaked with the blood of his beloved family, and let out the most bloodcurdling scream that a man has ever emitted. Tears flowed down his now bloody face and his heart was overwhelmed with torment. This was far beyond even what he could have ever imagined, and it was his beloved wife and precious little girls that had paid the price. The price for what, he did not know. His mind was beyond all thought of the what-for's. All he could see was that the innocent had suffered for him. His screams echoed through his head, and death for himself now seemed all too sweet; a reprieve from the agony he felt, and his want to be with his family.  
  
Ardeth's mother was still kneeling outside the tent, overwhelmed with the loss of so many, and the most tragic loss of all; her beloved grandchildren and the young woman who became a daughter to her. She heard Ardeth's screams and could not bear the suffering of hearing her own son in his cries of anguish and sorrow. She knew that he would have a very hard time getting over this, if he ever could.  
  
NO RELIEF IN SIGHT  
  
It was past time for the next group of warriors to take over at the dread city. Bahir and Shariyf were both becoming edgy and very suspicious. All the warriors on watch were.  
  
It had been two hours since Ardeth had left and they knew that he would have reached the village in an hour's time at the pace he was going. No messengers, no birds, nothing at all. Both Bahir and Shariyf made their decision rather quickly.  
  
For the first time in the history of the Medjai; Hamunaptra was left unguarded.  
  
The warriors quickened their pace as Ardeth had, as now they knew something was very wrong. What they found sickened and angered them simultaneously. and they frantically searched for any and all who knew what had happened. Shariyf and Bahir saw Ardeth's tent in the distance and were relieved to see that it had not been burned down. However, as they approached, they saw blood on it's walls and began to run fast towards it. They found Ardeth's mother on the ground and quickly knelt beside her to see if she was injured. They were relieved, finding she was not, but alarmed at her overwhelming cries; all she could do was point to the tent. They hurriedly entered and saw Bahiyaa and the two little girls.  
  
Shariyf and Bahir had to fight the rising nausea from the sickening sight as well as the tears that were welling in their eyes. Looking down, they saw Ardeth lying on the carpet, covered in blood. 


	2. Endless Love chapter 2

Many thanks to all ya'll who left such wonderful reviews! Thank you for the morale booster...I was afraid that this story wouldn't be very interesting...but thanks to you all...so therefore, I shall continue the sad tale...but I promise that it will get more uplifting later on...not so tragic...but I have to let ya'll know the whole story...I am a detail person, as you can probably tell from reading some of the reviews that I leave you...lol  
  
ENDLESS LOVE chp 2  
  
  
  
BEWILDERMENT  
  
Shariyf slowly knelt down, afraid of what he might discover. He carefully lifted Ardeth's arm to turn him onto his back. Ardeth's eyes were staring in horror at nothing in particular, as if the horrific vision before them had been permanently burned into his eyes, into his mind, into his very soul.  
  
Shariyf and Bahir checked for any wounds, but found none. Relieved at that, they tried to rouse Ardeth out of his stupor.  
  
"He is in shock, I think," said Shariyf.  
  
Bahir nodded, noticing that the carpet that they stood on was soggy with blood. "All this blood is from Bahiyaa and the little ones," he said, with sorrow in his voice.  
  
Shariyf's eyes blazed with anger with the knowledge that Ardeth had been the real target, as no one else in the village had been brutalized in this manner. He looked at the bodies before him, wondering what type of foe they faced. Knowledge is power, and the more knowledge the Medjai had about the murderous fiends, the greater advantage they had in preventing more heinous acts against their Chieftain and his family. He couldn't take the ramblings of his mind and spun around suddenly to face Bahir.  
  
"Why then, why not attack us, and try to kill him that way?" asked Shariyf. "Obviously, whoever is after Ardeth has no honor, and likes to maim and torment their victim before they actually go in for the kill," said Bahir.  
  
Shariyf shook his head, sickened by the way these animals operated. "Remember the writing on the tent wall, it was a message meant for Ardeth, not for all Medjai. They want to torture him and wear him down."  
  
"To take all that is precious to him away," Bahir said.  
  
"To break him, and lose all hope," added Shariyf.  
  
Bahir and Shariyf stood over the still prone Ardeth and looked down at him apprehensively, wondering what other horror was in store for him.  
  
"Shariyf," said Bahir. "We must do any and all to protect Ardeth and his remaining family members. Actually, everyone is at risk, as the whole tribe means much to him."  
  
Shariyf's eyes went wide and he yelled, "The O'Connell's!"  
  
Bahir realized what he was saying and it didn't take him long to react. He spun on the bloody carpet and headed out the tent flaps, calling for Abdul- Khaaliq, another chosen warrior. "Go to Cairo, see if the O'Connell's are there," he told Abdul. "If not, wire them in London, and tell them what has happened. Take four of our warriors with you, and if the O'Connell's are in Cairo, stay with them to protect them and send a messenger back. Also contact our Medjai brothers in Cairo tell them of the atrocity that has taken place. Have them help you with protecting the O'Connell's, and with any information that they can find about who did this."  
  
With this said, Abdul-Khaaliq nodded and quickly went into motion to gather the needed warriors and within a few minutes, were on their way to Cairo.  
  
WHAT LIES IN STORE  
  
Rick and Evy had arrived in Cairo the day before, for Evy had her mind set on exploring some ruins she had read about in the lower-most regions of the Sahara. It was a fabled city in Egyptian mythology that she'd found in an ancient text. Being the curious person she was, she wanted to find out for sure if it had indeed existed. She was sure the Medjai knew about it, as all of Egypt's secrets rested in their capable hands for thousands of years.  
  
"Rick, I really think we should contact Ardeth as soon as possible," she said.  
  
Rick just paced around for a little before he answered her. Finally, he turned to her. "Honey, the more I think about this, well, the more I think we should let sleeping dogs lie."  
  
"Its only an ancient city!" exclaimed Evy.  
  
"Well, Evy, you know our track record concerning things of that nature, you know!"  
  
"Rick, just think of the historical finds, if it indeed existed, it would be over six thousand years old. What harm could there possibly be?"  
  
"EVY!" Rick yelled. "I said no, no, no!" "How many more times do I have to say it?"  
  
"Richard O'Connell! Give me one good reason why we shouldn't," asked a very perturbed Evy. "After all, there are no text that even leads one to believe that there may have been anything sinister or cursed in or about the city."  
  
Rick was about to respond when he heard a knock at the back door. "Now, who the hell is that?" Rick said, annoyed at having been interrupted.  
  
Evy started for the kitchen to answer the door, but Rick stopped her in her tracks. "I'll answer it. YOU stay put, you hear?" "And remember, we're not goin! Nothing is gonna change my mind!" With that said, he started for the back door. When he opened it, he wasn't at all surprised to see black robes and a face partially covered. However, what did surprise him was that what he could see of the face was not familiar.  
  
HERALD OF DOOM  
  
The mask came down slowly, revealing a gray-bearded man Rick estimated to be in his fifties. The man bowed his head and introduced himself.  
  
"I am Abdul-Khaaliq," he said. "I have been sent by Bahir, Ardeth's second in command. You are in great danger, as we all are, at this time, and we have been sent to protect you from those who seek your lives."  
  
"Whoa!" exclaimed Rick. "First off, where is Ardeth? What has happened? We? Who's we?" With that said, Rick found himself surrounded by Medjai that he didn't realize were even there. "Well, that's what I call coming out of the woodwork!" said Rick, finally realizing that Evy had been standing behind him all this time.  
  
"Answer Rick's question, please. Where is Ardeth?" Evy reiterated.  
  
Abdul-Khaaliq bowed his head; at first, unable to find the right words that could even describe the atrocity that had taken place.  
  
With rising tension in his voice, Rick pressed the subject. "Answer my wife! Where is Ardeth? What has happened, and why are our lives at stake?"  
  
Abdul-Khaaliq looked up, squarely into Rick's eyes. The pain and sorrow that Rick saw in them was enough to raise his anxiety level to a new height. "There was an attack on our village while Ardeth was on watch at Hamunaptra. The attack left many dead and many more wounded. But." Abdul- Khaaliq hesitated a moment, trying to regain the composure that was steadily slipping away from him. Tears were starting to form and he fought them back desperately, trying not to seem weak in the American's eyes. Finally, he was able to complete the sentence that was hanging in midair. "Ardeth knew something was wrong, and he left hurriedly back to the village only to find utter devastation and worst of all, his wife and daughters were mercilessly murdered."  
  
Rick's jaw dropped, wide-eyed with horror.  
  
Evy began to cry, as she had become very close to Bahiyaa and her beautiful little girls. Thru her tears, Evy spoke up anxiously. "Rick, we must go to him. He has done so much for us, saved our lives more times than I can count, and he risked his life to save Alex. If we can't do anything else, at least we can be there for him."  
  
"No, Evy," Rick replied. "I'll go, you stay. I want to get my hands on the worthless scum that did this!"  
  
"No Rick!" Evy yelled with a start. "We both go!" she matter-of-factly stated. "He's my friend too!"  
  
Rick could offer little argument against her adamant behavior; he knew that it was useless. After all, Ardeth had been with them through thick and thin, many times over. They owed that much to him. But, they were interrupted by a loud deep voice from the man in front of them, who had been watching the couple squabble over the issue.  
  
"NO!" Abdul-Khaaliq snapped. "We have our orders to protect you, not bring you out in the desert to face certain death. The Medjai in Cairo, as well as in other cities, have been alerted on the matter. As we speak, they are searching for answers as to who has done this. Bahir thought it better that if you happened to be in Cairo, that guards should be posted around your home, and we shall protect you with our lives, as we know that is what Ardeth would want."  
  
Rick didn't like the idea of being dictated to by someone, especially in his own home, but he had to concede, as he knew that it was the most logical approach at the moment. There would be time for retribution, and he made a vow that he would have a major part in it, for the sake of his best friend.  
  
Rick sat down at the kitchen table with his head in his hands, silently making that vow and trying to figure out a way to get past the Medjai that were surrounding the house, without them noticing. "Impossible," he thought. "Buddy, I'm gonna find a way to come and help you, if its the last thing I do," Rick said to himself.  
  
NIGHTMARES  
  
Her eyes. All he could see was the pain and confusion still reflected in those lifeless orbs, telltale signs of the agonizing sorrow that she had endured, that his children endured. Nothing mattered at the moment. Not life, nor Hamunaptra, nor any other accursed place that was their sworn duty to protect. To him, all was lost. The only thing that mattered to him was his own death. This he could remedy, he thought. No power on this earth could stop him from the decision he had made. As if out of thin air, Ardeth heard a voice say "GET UP!"  
  
He slowly raised his head off the carpet and looked up, hoping all this was a horrifying dream. Afraid to open his eyes, ever so slowly he did, and realized it wasn't. Looking around with apparent confusion-trying to find the source of the voice, and finding none-he closed his eyes and again, laid his head back down, not having the will to get up.  
  
He suddenly heard the voice again. "GET UP!!" it said. He reluctantly stood, now realizing that the voice he heard was his very own. His very own will was battling with his mind and body for victory.  
  
Ardeth stood, with his back to his family, not being able to bring himself to look at them again. Finally, with grim resignation, he turned to face the first task he had to undertake; to take down and bury his family.  
  
Bahir and Shariyf had left the tent shortly after the warriors had been dispatched. They stayed respectfully out of the tent for Ardeth's sake. Shariyf was cradling Ardeth's mother, trying to offer what little comfort he could. As dawn had already left and the bright sun was now steadily rising, Bahir sent out warriors in all directions to start tracking the direction of flight the attackers had taken.  
  
Bahir now approached Shariyf and Ardeth's mother, Shatarra, still sitting on the sand. Bahir understood Shariyf's tender ministrations. All loved Shatarra, as they did Ardeth himself. Normally, she was a woman of such strength, even in her great age. But now, it was as if her heart could not hurt more. But they both knew that was not true. Her last heartache lay on the carpet inside. Thru the years, she had suffered much with the deaths of her husband, her three daughters, and her other two sons. They both knew that if Ardeth would die, she would not be able to live through it at all; he was her very heart.  
  
Bahir looked down at Shariyf, who looked up with knowing eyes. He gently let go of Shatarra and stood, steeling himself for what they knew had to be done. They approached the tent flaps, hesitating for a moment, to regain some composure. They entered to find Ardeth standing in front of the body of his wife, gently caressing her lifeless hand. They could tell that he was crying, but could wait no longer, as the sun was rapidly rising now, and soon the heat would make the removal and burial even more difficult.  
  
Bahir approached Ardeth, and gently laid a hand on his shoulder.  
  
Ardeth tried in vain to hide his tears, but was unsuccessful.  
  
Bahir turned Ardeth ever so slightly and tried to get him to look at him. He quietly studied the young Chieftain's face, trying to think of what to say that could help him through this. So many burdens had been placed on his shoulders since the day of his father's death, and it was a certainty that his shoulders could not bear much more. Bahir ever so gently said his name.  
  
Ardeth was looking down in apparent humiliation at the weakness he was showing in front of his friends. Bahir called his name once again, and walked directly into his line of vision. Slowly, Ardeth lifted his eyes to meet Bahir's. Bahir met Ardeth's eyes with sincerity and sorrow.  
  
"Ardeth, there is no shame in your mourning, no man should have to go through such an ordeal and be expected to show no sign of the suffering he feels. You may be our Chieftain, but you are human, first and foremost."  
  
Ardeth could not listen to anymore of Bahir's words of wisdom, and jerked his shoulder back, his eyes now showing an unbridled rage that Bahir did not expect, not yet, at least.  
  
Shariyf jumped back, quite startled at the sudden emotional shift in his leader. Not knowing what to expect, he kept quiet, waiting for Ardeth's response, if any.  
  
Ardeth spoke, now seething with rage. "They died because of me! Because of who I am! Because of what I have to do or have done to someone! Do you not see the injustice here? They were innocent, I am not!" he said, vehemently. "They suffered and died because of me!" he said, with so much anguish in his voice that the two men before him could not help the tears that formed in their eyes. The pain ran so deep; it was as if every word spoken ripped his flesh from his bones in his self-inflicted torment.  
  
"Don't speak to me of my great suffering," Ardeth spat at Bahir. "Was Bahiyaa and my little girls' pain any worse?" he said with bitter irony. Saying no more, he turned back to where his wife and children hung. He visibly shuddered as he reached for the ropes; one by one, that held his loved ones suspended.  
  
Shariyf came forward and stood next to Ardeth, willing to help him. Ardeth gave him a look that said no, but Shariyf would not be put off. "Ardeth, we have been close friends of yours since childhood and have been through many hardships together. We share your grief, now let us share your burden as well..." Shariyf said it with such sincerity that Ardeth could not deny him.  
  
Bahir and Shariyf grimly set forth to the task of helping remove the bodies from the tent poles, and now Ardeth knelt beside the bodies of his slain family. The grave had been dug, now all that was left was to place them in the grave. All the others who had died had been buried; all that remained were the Chieftain's wife and daughters. All who were able were still in attendance, out of respect for their leader. Behind him, there was great weeping and sorrow amongst the tribe. Never in their lifetime had anyone witnessed lamentation of this magnitude.  
  
Keeping a tight rein on his emotions, Ardeth gently caressed his shrouded wife's face, unwilling to accept the inevitable. He felt a gentle arm rest over his shoulders. His mother tried to comfort her son in his quiet anguish.  
  
"Ardeth, let them go, let them go," she gently said. Shatarra could tell that her son was holding back a flood of emotions and tears that were threatening to overcome him at any moment. Knowing that it was emotionally unhealthy for him to bury his pain, she continued to try to provoke a response from him. He needed to release the pent up emotions, rage, sorrow, and hopelessness; anything but the reclusive behavior he was displaying.  
  
"My precious son, please let us bury them now," Shatarra said. The truth be known, it was very important to bury them now, as it was past noonday and Ardeth would not let anyone move their bodies.  
  
Bahir and Shariyf stood vigil behind Ardeth, silently willing him to let the burial be complete. Behind them, the rest of his chosen stood close behind, followed by a sea of warriors, women, and children. Nothing seemed to penetrate the deep depressive walls Ardeth was steadily building around himself.  
  
Gently touching his children, he bowed his head and said, "I can't."  
  
Shariyf came forward, knelt down beside his friend and leader and gently offered his assurance that it would be best. "Ardeth, we have to find who did this. We have found several trails, one leads deep into the desert, two lead to the west, another leads north in the direction of Cairo. If we do not leave soon, we may never find them," he said trying to reason with Ardeth to bring him out of the deep depths of despair.  
  
Ardeth closed his eyes once more and fought the surge of emotions deep within. He knew Shariyf was right, as well as his mother, but his mind was so confused. The words Shariyf spoke sunk in deeper. He knew they had to find them quickly. Still he couldn't bear the thought of his beloved wife and children being buried in the sand. "They deserved better than that," he thought. But a great deal of haste was required now. They needed to find these unknown adversaries before any more lives were claimed.  
  
With a great sigh, Ardeth turned to Shariyf and nodded his agreement. Slowly, he turned to meet the gaze of his mother. He gently squeezed her hand; no words were needed. He was still fighting deep within to maintain a small measure of composure.  
  
Fear and sadness shone in Shatarra's eyes. Her dear son would now have to embark on a quest to bring justice and redemption for their people. "How many more will die?" she wondered. Her heart silently begged for mercy for her son, and wished he could be spared this journey. But he was their Chieftain, as was his father before him. Since ancient times, the Bey family had been the ruling line of the protectors of Egypt. "He is of a great name and a proud people," Shatarra thought. "Much is required of him."  
  
Suddenly, Ardeth rose and gently began to pick up his wife's body.  
  
Shariyf and Bahir both stepped to either side and carefully helped Ardeth place her body in the large grave.  
  
After laying her down, Ardeth motioned for Shariyf and Bahir to back up. They complied, as they knew his intentions. Each in turn, he gently placed his little girls on either side of their mother. Kneeling now, he grabbed a handful of sand and sprinkled in over their bodies, whispering a prayer as he did, and then reached for his dagger and removed it from its sheath. Slowly, Ardeth slid it across his palm. Speaking in a calm voice, he swore to his people and to his family now in the grave that he would not rest until all those responsible were brought to justice. As he said the words, his blood poured into the grave of his family, to mingle with their own. 


	3. Endless Love chapter 3

Thank you all for the wonderful reviews! A word of warning, though...this chapter is going to be a little shocking, but it will explain much...so please bear with me on this...it will be getting a little less intense several chapters from now...hope this enlightens you on the problems the Medjai are facing...Enjoy!  
  
CHAPTER 3  
  
REVELATIONS FROM THE PAST  
  
Rick stared through one of the parlor windows. Dusk was falling over the city of Cairo, and the Medjai continued their watch over their home. Even after being acquainted with the Medjai and their ways for some years now, it still amazed him how elusive they were on watch.  
  
Rick kept looking through various windows in the house. He couldn't see even one of them; not one, and laughed to himself. "Our invisible guards," he said quietly.  
  
Walking away from the window, he saw Evy coming down the stairs, book in hand. She headed for the kitchen to prepare the kettle for tea, and Rick followed her, wanting to take his mind off the situation. He came up behind his wife and gently embraced her. She appeared to be startled at first, but then relaxed in his comforting embrace.  
  
"Rick, what are we going to do?" Evy asked, glancing up and slightly over her shoulder.  
  
Rick looked down at her with a questioning expression. "We're gonna do just what the man said, and stay right here until they find out who did this."  
  
Evy turned and firmly grabbed his arm, leaning forward to stare straight into his eyes. "I know you better than that," she replied. "Don't even think you are going to leave without me!"  
  
"Evy, you need to stay here," said Rick, not surprised at all that Evy had guessed his real intentions. "Jonathan and Alex are supposed to arrive in a few days. You need to be here when they arrive, point blank, otherwise Jonathan is gonna get into some trouble, or for that matter, Alex. After all, he takes after you," he said chidingly.  
  
As soon as he finished his last sentence, Rick frowned, remembering what Abdul-Khaaliq had said earlier that day. If they weren't in Egypt, then the Cairo Medjai would contact their London brothers. Fear started to rise up in his already over-stressed mind. The bad guys could have already gotten to his son and Jonathan, as the Medjai didn't really know who the enemy was. Or did they...  
  
"Alex!" Rick and Evy said simultaneously. "Oh, Rick! What if..." She didn't get a chance to say more, as out of the darkness, under the back stairwell, they heard a familiar voice.  
  
"Your son and brother are under close observation as we speak," the voice said. "Some of our London brothers embarked on the journey to make sure all stayed well with your family. If any attempts are made to harm them, I assure you, they will not succeed." With this said, Abdul- Khaaliq walked out from the shadows.  
  
"You guys really know how to pop out of nowhere, don't ya," Rick said.  
  
This provoked a small smile from Abdul-Khaaliq.  
  
Evy approached him with a questioning look in her eyes. "Have you heard any word on who is responsible?' she asked.  
  
Abdul-Khaaliq nodded, but didn't elaborate on what he had found out.  
  
"Out with it, buddy!" Rick said, with strained patience. "We're just as involved as you are, maybe even more."  
  
Abdul-Khaaliq walked past them to gaze out the window over the sink. "I cannot tell you anything about them. It is something we do not speak of. Some things are better left unsaid. It is not my place, even if I was allowed to, but this I know, all will be revealed to you in time."  
  
"Whoa," said Rick. "This has gotta be really bad. Aren't you one of Ardeth's chosen warriors?"  
  
"Yes, I am," replied Abdul-Khaaliq.  
  
"Well then, I believe you have a lot of responsibility, right?"  
  
Abdul-Khaaliq nodded, but was beginning to feel like he was falling into a trap.  
  
"I believe you spoke of time, correct?" asked Rick.  
  
Again, Abdul-Khaaliq nodded.  
  
"Well, I don't know if you noticed, but I believe we might just run out of time if we don't get the lead out of our pants and start finding them!" Rick said, clearly frustrated with Abdul-Khaaliq's tight lip. "So out with it!"  
  
Abdul-Khaaliq frowned at the odd manner of speech and continued to stare.  
  
Evy approached him, trying to get some answers. "Please, at least tell us who they are. After all, Ardeth has been a dear friend of ours for quite some time now. We just wish to do anything we can for him," Evy said, trying desperately to reason with him.  
  
Continuing to stare out the window, Abdul sighed with resignation. "There are those who feel threatened by our existence and there are those who were once part of us who seek revenge for the dishonor that they brought upon themselves. We have reason to believe there is a connection," he said, still staring through the window.  
  
"You spoke of two separate groups of people," said Evy. "How can you even be sure it is either of them? It's common knowledge that the Tuareg are mortal enemies of the Medjai. Could it possibly have been them? After all, this was butchery, plain and simple, not an attack of stealth and cunning. What evidence do you-"  
  
Rick cut her ramblings off. "Evy! Let the man finish, obviously he wasn't done. Tell us all you know," Rick requested, motioning for Abdul-Khaaliq to sit at the kitchen table as Evy prepared more tea.  
  
They sat and waited for him to begin. Knowing that it would be futile to skirt the issue and Evelyn O'Connell's relentless pursuit of knowledge, Abdul hesitantly began the tale, hoping Ardeth would forgive him for breaking their rules on forbidden subjects.  
  
"A long time ago, during the reign of Ardeth's grandfather, Yushua Bey, there was a warrior who despised the Chieftain. His name was Zouhir, and he was always trying to cause dissention among the tribe. You see, Zouhir didn't approve of Yushua's manner of handling foreigners coming into the Sahara or even Egypt itself. Yushua was more tolerant and merciful in his decisions concerning the fate of foreigners. Zouhir, on the other hand, was one who craved the spilling of blood. It seemed as though he gained great pleasure in killing. Yushua had admonished him many times for his merciless acts on the foreign men who came to loot and pillage." He paused to take a breath. "Make no mistake, my friends, Yushua did his sworn duty. Many times he had to kill in order to protect this world from the ancient evils that man was ignorant of. But first he would issue a warning, and if the intruders wouldn't comply or if they became aggressive, then he had no choice but to kill. But even in his methods of killing, it was swift and merciful. Zouhir was a chosen warrior, and as it is today, was in charge over various watches of forbidden areas."  
  
Rick and Evy nodded, to show him they were following the story.  
  
"Zouhir was never on watch when Yushua was," Abdul continued. "Yushua had heard many complaints from other warriors of his unnecessary brutality. Zouhir enjoyed killing, but enjoyed watching the men suffer slowly even more so. Yushua had exacted punishment on Zouhir several times for his brutal tactics, and finally, it seemed that Yushua had broken Zouhir's lust for torture. But one day, one of the warriors on Zouhir's watch came to the Chieftain in a state of great distress. His name was Koyan and was a young warrior of twenty. Koyan informed Yushua of Zouhir's newest bloodthirsty habit. When Yushua heard, he was so shocked and enraged, he told the young warrior to get some of the warriors from the watch group and to have them assemble in the Chieftain's tent. Yushua then questioned them of Zouhir's behavior. All were in agreement with Koyan and verified his allegations completely. Yushua, sickened and filled with disgust told his son and heir, Akhtar, Ardeth's father, to accompany them to Zouhir's tent. Akhtar was unaware of the new situation at this time, as he was preoccupied with the birth of his son and heir, Ardeth, who had been born that very day. Yushua, Akhtar, and the eight warriors proceeded to Zouhir's tent, which Yushua noticed was abnormally distant from all other tents. He had noticed the tent's distance before, but had thought Zouhir just wanted more privacy as he was having family problems, and didn't particularly like children. But now, he knew that wasn't the reason."  
  
Abdul paused again, wishing he didn't have to relive in his mind what he was about to say. "Without asking for admittance, Yushua pulled back the tent flap and all entered. The first thing that they noticed, even before opening the flap, was the horrible stench emanating from within, a stench they were all too familiar with; that of rotting flesh. There was nothing strange in this room of the tent and they proceeded to a partitioned off room. Inside, they saw Zouhir sleeping. Still, they didn't observe anything unusual, so they proceeded to enter the back partitioned room. What they saw was beyond any of their imaginations. There were several rows of severed human heads, all in various states of decay." He sighed, noting the O'connell's horrified expressions.  
  
"So repulsed by what they saw, Koyan ran out of the entrance and vomited, overcome by the stench and hideous sight. The sudden noise from the young warrior woke Zouhir. He didn't even get the chance to get up from his bed, because Akhtar grabbed him by the hair and dragged him outside and didn't stop until he had him in the middle of the camp. All the commotion roused the village to a state of alert. Quickly, all warriors formed a circle around the spectacle. With a wave of Yushua's hand, several warriors came forward. It took all the strength they had just to pull the enraged Akhtar off Zouhir. Yushua stood before Zouhir, seething with rage. Knowing well that Zouhir should be promptly put to death, he thought of those who would suffer because of his death. Weighing the ramifications of his decision, for the first time in his life, he was not sure his conclusion would be a wise one. He also knew of a few warriors who would challenge his sentence of death, if that would be the choice. With the exception of these few, all other warriors were fiercely loyal to the Chieftain. Yushua thought of Zouhir's father, Hydar, who was his honored first and dear friend for many years. He called for him; not realizing Hydar was standing behind him, and told Hydar he could not speak the sentence. Knowing Yushua's mind as his very own, Hydar understood the Chieftain's predicament. Standing tall and sure, Hydar told his son, Zouhir, that he would be spared execution, but would be banished; all ties to his family would be severed, he no longer existed. Zouhir didn't really care about the banishment. He didn't really care much about anything at all. For three years, he had already alienated himself from his family, friends, and fellow warriors. He didn't even share a tent with his wife and son. Such was his withdrawal from our people. As he left the village, he turned back to stare defiantly at the Chieftain and his father, Hydar. With indignation lacing his voice, Zouhir swore revenge on Yushua Bey's family, saying all generations of Bey's would suffer bitter anguish and death, by his hand. Then he turned to face Akhtar, and arrogantly congratulated him on the birth of his firstborn son and heir. Narrowing his eyes, and with a sadistic grin, he told Akhtar to enjoy his son while he could. Then he left, and no one has actually seen him since. Only his evil deeds speak of his presence."  
  
Abdul-Khaaliq finally finished and grew silent, closing his eyes as he remembered the scene playing back in his mind. When all this had transpired, he was but a small boy of five. However, reliving it had opened old wounds; wounds he would rather have forgotten.  
  
Rick and Evy sat dumbfounded following the startling revelation. Evy noticed that during the tale, it weighed so heavily on Abdul-Khaaliq's heart, that his voice became hoarse with emotion and he seemed quite humiliated with this sensitive disclosure.  
  
Rick recovered first, after the startling discovery. "So, I take it, you think that this guy is responsible?" he asked, knowingly.  
  
Abdul-Khaaliq nodded, ruefully. Slowly, he rose, going back to stare thru the kitchen window. Night had fallen; the darkness had crept upon them as the tale told of the darkness of the evil Medjai's heart. It was as if they were somehow linked; the darkness of the night and the darkness of the evil one's soul.  
  
"You said there were a few Medjai that were sympathetic to Zouhir. Whatever became of them?" she asked.  
  
"They left our village shortly after Zouhir did," Abdul-Khaaliq replied, offering no more information.  
  
"Abdul, if I may ask, what happened to his family? You know, his wife and son," Evy nervously asked.  
  
"Hydar took care of his daughter-in-law and grandson. No fault or blame was ever placed on any of his remaining family. The Medjai do not disgrace a whole family because of a member's inappropriate behavior. However, they might as well, as the family is never the same again," he said, with downcast eyes.  
  
"I can understand that, his son feeling the shame of what his father had done. I sure would have hated to have had him for a dad," Rick said with disgust.  
  
"It was.....very difficult.....indeed," Abdul-Khaaliq said, shamefully.  
  
Rick and Evy stared at each other, wide-eyed at the startling implication.  
  
"Zouhir is YOUR father?!" Rick asked incredulously.  
  
"WAS my father," Abdul-Khaaliq said, riddled with shame. 


	4. Endless Love chapter 4

Thank you all for your great reviews...and thanks Patty, for your enouraging words...about the details, LOL...I am a detail person...glad you are too...! Here goes...hope ya'll enjoy!  
  
  
  
ENDLESS LOVE CHAPTER 4  
  
ANTICIPATION  
  
Ardeth stared intensely into the distant horizon, wondering what fate awaited his warriors. He now knew who his enemy was, as on the blood- soaked carpet, he had been left a message; an all too clear message. Bahir had noticed it on the carpet, when they were removing it to be disposed of. It was his father's ring. The ring of the Bey family, that had been passed down from father to son for countless generations. Zouhir had taken it as a trophy when he murdered Ardeth's father ten years before. Now, he wanted nothing more than to confront his enemy, face to face, and put an end to Zouhir's revenge.  
  
Falcons had been dispatched to the other tribes, and knew that they would rendezvous with his warriors. He had split up the warriors into four groups, to search for the enemy. Ardeth had taken the trail that lead deep into the desert, as he knew in his heart the place chosen by his mortal enemy; The Caverns of Sorrow. This had been the place of Ardeth's fathers demise.  
  
The caverns were deep in the Sahara, and no one knew of its existence, outside of the Medjai. In Egyptian mythology, it was vaguely mentioned, but only in one fabled story. Its name was not even recorded, only that it was deep in the southernmost section of the Sahara. Its location was so deep in the desert, that there was no fear of any outsiders ever stumbling upon it. In this place, a great tragedy occurred four thousand years before. Its history was kept secret by the Medjai, and that secret was threatened now.  
  
Many would die, he was sure of it. He knew, to his utter dismay, that his men would gladly die for him. Such was the honor of the great Medjai people. He understood death, stood in the face of it many times over, and grieved over many fallen comrades. He could accept those terms, for he had no choice. But the taking of innocent blood was unthinkable to the honorable Medjai tribes; any and all who committed such offenses had to pay with their own blood.  
  
Bahir had taken the trail leading to Cairo. Shariyf had accompanied Ardeth, keeping a watchful eye on him. Both Bahir and Shariyf knew that Ardeth would be careless with his own life, now that his family was gone. They knew that even having Shatarra to come back to was not enough to bring him through this physically unscathed. Shariyf had vowed, to Bahir, to protect Ardeth with his life. Bahir knew that Shariyf was ever the trustworthy friend to them both, and didn't doubt that Shariyf would protect Ardeth at all costs.  
  
Shariyf stared into the eastern horizon and stopped. Noticing his sudden halt, Ardeth stopped and looked in the direction Shariyf was pointing to. In the distance, there was a large group of black clad warriors bearing down on them. Shariyf sighed with relief, knowing that it was their brothers from the Eighth tribe. Shariyf's brief relief was replaced with sudden anxiety rushing up his body, realizing that Ardeth's father-in-law was no doubt in the company of these warriors. He didn't know what to think of what might happen; now that Ardeth's father-in-law was within minutes of arrival. Knowing Shunnar's temper, anything could happen.  
  
"Will he forgive him?" Shariyf wondered silently.  
  
Ardeth waved for his warriors to stop their pursuit until the Eighth's warriors met up with them. He waited in silent anticipation for his father- in-law.  
  
CONTEMPTIBLE INDIGNATION  
  
Shunnar could see the large group of warriors heading south. He hoped that Ardeth was not leading these warriors, as he was not prepared to face him yet. Bahiyaa had been his only daughter, and was very precious to him. Now, she was gone. The light of his life, snuffed out because of his son- in-law. He thought of his sweet little granddaughters. They were so vibrant and full of energy. Ablaa was three years old, and Alia would soon have turned two. Now, those adorable little ones were gone as well. Shunnar couldn't help the feelings of anger welling up inside him. To him, Ardeth was responsible for his daughter and granddaughters' safety. But he failed. He had been told Ardeth was on guard duty at Hamunaptra. He knew deep down inside, that there was nothing he could have done. However, this revelation did nothing to quell his anger. But now he regretted the marriage arrangements he had agreed upon with Akhtar many years ago.  
  
"If only I had refused," Shunnar reflected. "But that would have been an insult, to refuse such a great honor as the binding to the future King."  
  
But still, he knew that his daughter would be alive now, if she had not become Ardeth's wife.  
  
He led his men to the now waiting group of warriors. As they approached a reasonable distance, Shunnar's ever-keen eyes noticed that Ardeth sat astride his horse in front of his warriors. He tried desperately to bury his emotional turmoil, but was not very successful. Shunnar knew there would be a time and a place to confront his son-in-law, but now was not the time.  
  
Finally, the two groups of Medjai warriors had converged. Now, as was proper, Shunnar knew he must give the formal Medjai salute to his King and son-in-law. He had not been able to look at Ardeth yet; he needed more time. But he knew that as the commander of his tribe of Medjai, and subordinate to Ardeth, he must put his feelings aside and set a proper example for his men.  
  
Shunnar summoned as much courage and willpower as possible and looked at Ardeth. He began the salute, but stopped abruptly. Ardeth was not looking at his commander, but down at the sand in front of him. Never in all the years he had known Ardeth, since his very birth, had he seen him look so despondent and crushed. Pain and humiliation laced his features.  
  
Shunnar began to fight his innermost feelings from surfacing, but failed miserably. His anger quickly diffused, and was replaced with compassion. Compassion he felt for his son-in-law, a feeling that he willed himself to submerge at first, wanting nothing more than to vent his pain through his anger.  
  
Shunnar dismounted, and walked the few feet of ground to stand beside Ardeth's horse. "Ardeth, please look at me," he said, in an uncharacteristic soft voice.  
  
Ardeth, not responding, kept his eyes downcast.  
  
Shunnar reached up and gently clasped Ardeth's hand that was resting on his leg, squeezing tightly. "Please, my son," he implored.  
  
Ardeth slowly looked at his commander and father-in-law. The pain so evident in his eyes, Shunnar had to avert his own to gain his composure. His plans to reprimand Ardeth, despite the consequences of his disrespect, had all but diminished. Their eyes both reflected the same emotion of hopeless loss: Ardeth, the pain of loss of a husband and father, and Shunnar, the pain of loss of a father and grandfather.  
  
Ardeth slowly dismounted and came around his horse to face Shunnar. Not caring anymore what his men or any of the warriors of the Eighth tribe thought of him, Ardeth did something no one expected. He knelt down in the sand, before Shunnar, head bent down, humbling himself, silently begging for forgiveness for his failure.  
  
All the warriors were stunned at this, as never before had any of them witnessed their King humble himself before anyone, other than Allah.  
  
Stunned momentarily by this unprecedented act, Shariyf turned to look around at the warriors behind him. His look spoke the words he could not. Daring anyone to comment on their King's uncharacteristic behavior.  
  
But none even so much as flinched as they watched in amazement. This action brought an even deeper respect among most of his warriors, and those of the Eighth, for their King, knowing that he did not exalt himself above any man.  
  
Overtaken with grief and shame of his blaming Ardeth, Shunnar knelt before him. With both hands, he lifted his son-in-law's head to stare eye to eye with him.  
  
"It is not your fault. There was nothing you could have done; there is nothing for me to forgive. I have always loved you as a son. Since your birth, you always have had a special place in my heart. No man could hope for a better son than you have been to me," Shunnar said, tearfully.  
  
Pausing to regain his composure, with great conviction, he began to speak again.  
  
"My son, I will stand with you, side by side, and face our enemy together. We will seek retribution and find it. We will not stop until all those responsible have their place in hell. This I swear to you, on the blood of my daughter and grandchildren," Shunnar said, voice thick with emotion.  
  
Then he embraced the young man he called son, and they grieved together. 


	5. Endless Love chapter 5

As always, my special thanks to Deana, for taking the time out to beta for me and for always being there when I need a helping hand. And to Karri for all the ideas when I am stumped. Thank you both for all the moral support you so kindly give.  
  
Thanks so much to you all for your great reviews! It means much more to me than I can say!  
  
ENDLESS LOVE CHAPTER 5  
  
WHAT ARE WE GOING TO DO?  
  
Jonathan and Alex had enjoyed the trip so far. They had traveled by plane, but in Greece, decided it would be nice to take a leisurely boat cruise across the Mediterranean Sea to Egypt. What they did not know was that they were being watched.  
  
Oblivious to all around him, Jonathan enjoyed card game after card game as Alex looked on. He was on a winning streak for quite some time and was not about to quit now. It was extremely late, and Alex was growing very impatient. He was a bright and inquisitive child of nine now; much more wiser than his years now because of his experience at Ahm Shere.  
  
"Uncle Jon, I'm so tired of watching, let's go," Alex said, pulling on Jonathan's sleeve.  
  
"Hold on partner, just a few more minutes please!" Jonathan said encouragingly. "Now lets see, where were we? Oh yes, now for the showdown!" he told the only remaining player, as all others folded.  
  
"Well, I hate to do this to you, but here you go, full house, I win!" smirked his opponent.  
  
"Hold on, old chap, I believe a royal flush beats a full house any day of the week, wouldn't you say?" Jonathan said as he laid his hand on the table for all to see. "Oh well, sorry old fellow, just my lucky day!"  
  
His opponent, a very arrogant man, now sat red-faced with anger, having lost most of his money.  
  
"I'll get it back, wait and see," he said, rather confidently.  
  
"We'll see about that!" Jonathan exclaimed. He gathered up all his winnings, which tallied up to quite a hefty sum. Turning around to tell Alex he was ready, he realized the boy was no longer there.  
  
"Where did he go?" asked Jonathan of his opponent.  
  
The man just shrugged his shoulders at him. As Jonathan turned around to start searching, the man shot him a wicked grin, knowing full well where Alex was.  
  
Alex had decided he had had enough of waiting on his uncle. He walked alongside the rail, stopping mid-ship, listening to the cutting waves being propelled away by the luxury ship's hull. It began to lull his senses and he began to get very sleepy. Deciding that it was no use waiting for Jonathan, he headed forward towards the bow, wanting to get into the head- breeze.  
  
'Maybe that will keep me awake,' he thought. After all, there was no one to talk to, to keep him up, as everyone was either in bed or playing cards. He gazed towards the still distant point of the bow, and continued his little trek at a leisurely pace.  
  
But he never made it.  
  
Out of the darkness, a very dirty, disgusting man grabbed Alex before he knew what was happening. He tried desperately to kick and claw at the man, but to no avail. He couldn't scream because the man had a firm grip over his mouth.  
  
Alex began to panic; he couldn't breathe! Frantically he fought, but was dragged down the stairs and thrown into a second-class room. He scrambled up and pressed his back against the wall, darting his eyes back and forth, looking for a means of escape. He found none.  
  
The grimy man sat back in the chair by the door and snickered at the child's apparent fear. He took out a large dagger and began to sharpen it. Alex's fear grew, not knowing if help would arrive too late.  
  
Jonathan had walked the length of the ship; port and starboard, bow and stern, but still no Alex. He had already returned to their elaborate first class cabin a short time before, thinking Alex had gone to bed, but he wasn't there.  
  
'Maybe the little chap went to investigate the boiler room,' he wondered to himself, knowing Alex's curious mind. "I think I'll just have me a stroll down there and find out."  
  
Jonathan left the first class decks and into the elevator, down to the first floor of the second-class section. He walked down several corridors, and found what he was looking for; the crew's stairwell. He started down the stairs, hoping it would lead him to an entryway to the boiler room.  
  
However, when he was two decks down, someone burst through the door leading to the hall. A crewmember stood there, panting and looking up as Jonathan was descending the last few steps.  
  
"Thank goodness, Mr. Carnahan! I finally found you! You're nephew, young Alex, has had an accident. Hurry, come with me!" the young crewman said.  
  
Beginning to panic, Jonathan ran as fast as he could to catch up with the young man. Finally, at a t-fork in the hallway, he looked to the left and then right. The young man was standing at the end of the hallway and motioning wildly for him to hurry.  
  
Without another thought, he ran to the last room of the corridor and the crewman ushered him in.  
  
What he saw was not what he had expected. The man he had played poker with was sitting in a chair on the other side of the room.  
  
The door slammed shut behind him. Spinning around, three burly men stood, blocking his retreat. He turned around and began to fidget nervously. "Well old man, if you wanted the money back that badly, well you didn't have to drag my nephew into it! Now where's Alex, I want to see him!" Jonathan demanded.  
  
The man got up out of his chair and with a mock smile, approached Jonathan.  
  
"Mr. Carnahan, you are in no position to demand anything. Your nephew is in the adjoining room. Well guarded, I might add."  
  
He turned to his men. "Bind and gag him."  
  
Jonathan's eyes grew wide. "What is the meaning of this, I demand to know!" he said, as he was roughly grabbed by the arms and thrown into a straightback chair.  
  
"That, you will find out soon enough, I assure you," the man said. "I will tell you a little, just to appease your curious mind, but I think you will regret hearing it."  
  
"If you hurt my nephew, I'll-" He was cut off abruptly as a gag was harshly put in place.  
  
"Let me see now, where were we? Oh, forgive my rudeness; I don't think I properly introduced myself. My name is Elliott Fremantle; I am a man of status and wealth. I have many connections throughout the world, but most are in Egypt. Are we getting all this?" Fremantle said in a patronizing tone.  
  
Jonathan nodded, not sure what was coming next. 'Egypt, always Egypt. If I live through this, I'm never setting foot on that cursed soil again,' he thought to himself.  
  
Fremantle sat in a nearby chair and continued. "Let's see now.oh yes, it seems that you are a friend of a certain desert rat who is despised by me and my associates. Well, it just so happens that we keep up to date on all his comrades, friends, and family. You know what I mean. It's sort of a tally sheet. Well, every so often, we hit our dear despised enemy with a blow worse than death. You see the picture now? We kill off those that are dearest to him, very slowly."  
  
Jonathan swallowed hard, definitely getting the picture now!  
  
Fremantle stopped and his lips curled into an evil grin, reveling in Jonathan's discomfort. Then he continued. "This, you see, is a fate worse than death. But we like to take our time doing this, understand? To hurt him, over and over, very slowly. And we plan to keep hurting him, until there is no one left on our long tally sheet. Then, and only then, will we put him out of his wretched misery."  
  
Laughing, Fremantle stood up and started to walk away. He stopped and turned his head to look at Jonathan. "I'm sorry to inform you of this, but your name is on that list. So is Alex's. Oh, and by the way, we've already struck a devastating blow to your friend just the other day. My Egyptian associates attacked his village and killed his wife and children. As I speak, your sister and brother-in-law are being pursued."  
  
Having said this, Fremantle walked right up to Jonathan, reaching inside his jacket pocket and retrieved a large stack of money. "I told you I'd get it back. And, I can see, I got back some interest as well."  
  
Smiling at having caused Jonathan serious emotional trauma, and taking all of Jonathan's money, he strolled out of the room.  
  
Jonathan fought back tears, horror-struck by these sad revelations. Jonathan thought of Bahiyaa, Ablaa and Alia; Ardeth's beautiful family, murdered. His thoughts turned to Rick, Evy and Alex. He had to find a way to help; to warn them, if it wasn't too late already. He was sure Ardeth was hot on his attackers trail. But who were these Egyptian cronies Fremantle spoke of?  
  
Unable to control the emotions of sorrow, fear, and anticipation of the future, tears flowed freely down Jonathan's face.  
  
His guards watched him as he struggled to gain control over his emotions.  
  
"Don't worry, mate. We aren't gonna kill you off, not just yet, you know. We gotta get you and the little fellow down into the desert for the big show. You know, so your desert rat can watch," one guard said, smiling in anticipation of the upcoming event.  
  
At the end of the opposite hallway, two men peered out of the shadows of a slightly open door. Watching and waiting patiently; gathering as much details concerning the abduction that had unfolded before their eyes. Now, they waited for the right time to attack. They only hoped that no harm would come to the man and child before they could take control of the situation; needing to make sure that all involved were accounted for before they reached Egypt. They could not afford to let even one escape; the lives of this man and child were very important to their king.  
  
Each, in turn, vowed not to let their leader down and continued to watch. 


	6. Endless Love chapter 6

Thanks to all of ya'll for the wonderful reviews! I was about to give up on writing this story...I was beginning to think that I had scared some folks off...LOL Anyways, I'll continue, as long as you think I should... Thanks as always to Deana for beta-ing for me and to Karri for ideas and words of encouragement. Thanks to you all...Enjoy!  
  
ENDLESS LOVE CHAPTER 6  
  
THE EVIL THAT LURKS IN DARKNESS  
  
A soft cool breeze descended over the dunes, making for a pleasant change from the relentless heat of the day. It did nothing to ease the hot burning pain in Ardeth's heart.  
  
Ardeth sat on the top of a dune, not wanting any company. It was getting late. As dusk fell, the Medjai had set up camp. They had made good time today but were still far from their destination.  
  
Staring into the distance with trained eyes that could pierce the darkest night, Ardeth's mind wandered to the past.  
  
He remembered his father, Akhtar. He had been a wonderful father and was greatly loved by the tribes. Ardeth was a mirror image of him. Ardeth had a penchant for getting into trouble; and many times he had felt the sting of his father's correction, but the correction was always minor compared to the trouble he got into. Akhtar had a soft spot concerning Ardeth, and it was displayed frequently.  
  
Staring out into nothingness, Ardeth wished he had his father with him, one more time. He never felt he'd measured up to Akhtar's expectations. Ardeth sighed, silently wishing for his father's counsel.  
  
Ardeth removed his turban and face covering, letting the cool breeze tousle his long raven locks.  
  
He wondered about Bahir, if he was all right and if he'd reached the O'Connell's yet. He smiled, thinking of his lifelong friend. Bahir and Shariyf had been at his side constantly, just as he knew Shariyf was staring at him, worriedly, from a short distance, not wanting to intrude on his contemplation.  
  
His thoughts turned to the days of his youth.  
  
Their village had been farther south at that time and only a day and a half ride from the caverns. The village was a very large one, on the north border of a large oasis. There were many large ponds and streams that were fed by a series of underground springs, and as children, Ardeth, Bahir and Shariyf used to romp through the oasis, playing warriors. Swimming was a favorite activity of theirs; one they did most every day.  
  
One day, while swimming in a large pond deep in the oasis, they'd decided to see who could swim to the bottom first. Shariyf, being the fastest swimmer, reached it before his two friends. A few seconds later, Bahir made it. They looked around for Ardeth, but he was not there. Wondering where he was, they began their ascent. Finally, they spotted Ardeth swimming towards them; not from above, but from a short distance to the right.  
  
Ardeth beckoned for them to follow. Shariyf made a motion to surface, but Ardeth shook his head and pointed in the direction behind him. Bahir motioned Shariyf to follow, and they both took off to catch up with Ardeth. Shariyf motioned that he needed air, and all three boys reached the top, gasping for breath.  
  
"What is it?" asked Bahir of Ardeth.  
  
"You're not going to believe what I found!" Ardeth exclaimed. "Come on!" he said, enthusiastically.  
  
Ardeth dove back into the water and Bahir and Shariyf followed.  
  
Not too far off in the distance, they could make out a dark shadow in the water. As they approached it, it appeared to be a hole in the rock-face. They swam thru it and slightly up, and the boys soon cleared the surface of what seemed to be an entrance to an underground cave.  
  
Shariyf and Bahir looked at each other in amazement at this newfound discovery. Ardeth smiled, proud as a peacock, as he was the one who had made the initial discovery.  
  
Even though no sunlight could penetrate into the cave, there was light. The walls had a strange glittery-like substance on them and it reflected an iridescent illumination.  
  
They marveled at it, never having seen such a thing before.  
  
"I wonder how far the tunnel goes?" Shariyf said.  
  
"Only one way to tell, lets go and find out," Ardeth said, with excitement.  
  
Ardeth started walking but the other two stayed put.  
  
"What's wrong? Don't you want to find out? Come on, let's see what we can find!" said Ardeth, impatiently.  
  
"I don't know about this, Ardeth," said Bahir.  
  
"We might get in trouble," Shariyf added.  
  
"We always get into trouble, what's the difference?" Ardeth said, smiling at his two friends.  
  
Ardeth bounded off, leaving no room for argument.  
  
Bahir and Shariyf looked at each other. Shariyf rolled his eyes and Bahir shrugged his shoulders.  
  
"OH boy, here we go again," Bahir remarked as they both ran to catch up to their adventurous friend.  
  
A tap on his shoulder brought Ardeth back to reality.  
  
Shariyf jumped back a few steps, knowing Ardeth was deep in thought, wary of his very fast reflexes.  
  
"What?" Ardeth said, rather disturbed.  
  
"You need to get some rest. It's been over two days since you slept," said Shariyf.  
  
"I can't sleep," replied Ardeth, staring back into the desert.  
  
"You mean you won't," said Shariyf  
  
Ardeth shot Shariyf a warning glance, daring him to say another word.  
  
Shariyf began to say something else, but was cut off abruptly.  
  
"Leave me alone! Quit treating me like a child, I know what I'm doing!" Ardeth snapped, growing very annoyed.  
  
"All right Ardeth, I'll leave you alone," Shariyf said. "And no, I'm not treating you like a child. I'm just concerned, that's all. However, I do believe you know what you're doing; you're giving up on yourself," Shariyf said, hoping to provoke Ardeth's fighting spirit back to the surface.  
  
Shariyf knew that Ardeth needed to release his pent-up anger, and if he wound up being the target, so be it.  
  
Ardeth didn't even respond, as he knew all too well, that it was true. If he was eliminated from the overall picture, then Zouhir wouldn't have a reason to kill anyone else. Only his mother would be left, and what reason then would Zouhir have, to go after an old woman?  
  
Noting Ardeth's continued silence, Shariyf knew his suspicions were correct.  
  
"Don't you dare even think that way!" he shouted.  
  
"Wouldn't that solve the problem?" Ardeth shot back.  
  
"NO!" Shariyf yelled, greatly stressed. "I know what you're thinking and the answer is no! You selfish, inconsiderate son-of-a.....!" He didn't get a chance to finish, as Ardeth gave Shariyf what he was asking for.  
  
Ardeth had pounced on him with the speed of a striking cobra. Punching Shariyf countless times, they rolled around in the sand for quite some time. All the pent-up anger flowed through Ardeth's overzealous fists. He was really hurting Shariyf, but he didn't care. All he could see before his eyes was his enemy, faceless though he was, as no one had ever seen Zouhir since he had left the village. Ardeth had been a newborn at the time, and had no idea what the man even looked like, seeing only the aftermath of his vicious attacks.  
  
Ardeth saw the lifeless bodies of his father, his brothers and sisters, his wife and children. Unrelenting blows accosted Shariyf. He didn't know how much longer he could hold up under this onslaught of rage. Shariyf tried to grab a hold of Ardeth, but to no avail. With all his might, he grabbed a hold of Ardeth's wrist as his fist came down for another punch to his jaw. With a quick move, Shariyf finally hit Ardeth with all he had, rolling over on top of him and pinning him down. Ardeth was so weak from lack of sleep and food; it really wasn't that hard to do.  
  
Coming down from his rage high, Ardeth looked up into Shariyf's bleeding face, and cringed at seeing the damage he had done.  
  
"Why, Shariyf, why?" asked Ardeth, panting heavily.  
  
"Well, someone had to knock some sense into you, and as your friend, it was my bound duty to do just that," said Shariyf, wiping the blood from his lips.  
  
"I believe you were the one who took the beating," Ardeth said, contrite, now helping wipe the blood from Shariyf's face.  
  
"Yeah, well, but I let you, what are friends for?" Shariyf said smiling.  
  
"I think you have been associating with O'Connell too long, my friend," Ardeth said with a grin. "You are beginning to sound just like him."  
  
"Well you brought him to us, you know!" Shariyf laughed, relieved that all the pain he was in was not in vain. He could see Ardeth coming through the silent depression, and responding better. "A little is better than nothing," Shariyf sighed, knowing very well that soon, Ardeth would need to be prepared for the battle of his life.  
  
But Ardeth needed more help than Shariyf could give.  
  
Shunnar stood by his tent, watching the spectacle; waiting to see the result. What he saw made him feel a small degree of relief. He needed his son-in-law, just as much as Ardeth needed him. Now, he watched Shariyf walking rather unsteadily, supported by Ardeth. Ardeth walked with Shariyf into his tent. Shunnar admired Ardeth's friend's tenacity at getting results, and his utmost loyalty to his friend and king.  
  
Shunnar knew though, that it would be O'Connell who would be the one to bring Ardeth back to them, battle ready. They were a part of each other somehow, linked by fate. Together, they were one, and nearly invincible. Shunnar knew that O'Connell would need to fight at Ardeth's side; as well as all the Medjai warriors, to take down this vast network of murderers. But Ardeth would have to confront Zouhir himself.  
  
"We have to get O'Connell here at all costs." Shunnar began devising a plan. "Ardeth's very life depends on him."  
  
On the top of several high dunes, a large group of men wearing black robes watched the two warriors fight. Hidden by the darkness of night, they lay in wait for the opportune time to strike; they had to take out as many of the Medjai as possible.  
  
"Remember, Zouhir wants Ardeth Bey alive," said Faid, Zouhir's right hand man. 


	7. Endless Love chapter 7

Thanks to all of you for the wonderful reviews...and Tasha...by giddy galoshes...I will continue the story...thanks for the words of encouragement! Much thanks to you all.  
  
ENDLESS LOVE CHAPTER 7  
  
THE ENEMY THAT LIES WITHIN  
  
Bahir looked over the dunes in the direction of Cairo. A falcon had come bearing a message; Shunnar had sent word informing him of the need to bring O'Connell back. It was dark now and Bahir knew that he had to make it to Cairo as soon as possible.  
  
They continued on for another hour and finally reached the outskirts of Cairo. Having been met by the 5th tribe's warriors on their trek, they now had a exceptionally large company of warriors. Bahir had requested the commander of the 5th's tribe to spread out the warriors in strategic locations around Cairo, so that no one's entrance or departure could go undetected.  
  
Bahir took several warriors with him, and stealthily headed for the O'Connell's home.  
  
Abu-Badr-Ahmad, the commander of the 5th tribe, took command of the large group of warriors and followed Bahir's orders and placed them at the strategic locations Bahir had specified.  
  
But unbeknownst to Ahmad, traitors were among his warriors; waiting and watching.  
  
THE GREAT SACRIFICE  
  
Rick had tried to sleep, but it had evaded him. He paced the floors, filled with anticipation over Alex and Jonathan, concerned for their welfare. They should have arrived that morning, but were not on the plane. Doing some checking, he found out that Jonathan had changed plans and had decided to travel from Greece to Egypt via luxury cruise over the Mediterranean. Now, he wondered if the Medjai had been watching his son and brother-in-law change plans. Surely they had to have.  
  
Rick's thoughts turned to his friend, Ardeth, knowing in his heart that Ardeth needed him. Rick also knew that he needed Ardeth. Even though bad things always seemed to happen when they were together, deep down inside, it would make Rick feel more confidant, having Ardeth at his side. Beside the fact that he owed Ardeth much, for saving his son's life the year before, and for many times left unmentioned.  
  
Rick remembered how he had tried to find words to thank Ardeth before; but failed miserably. Ardeth had just smiled at him and nodded his head, silently telling Rick there was no need to say anything, not between them, anyway. No verbal thanks was needed between true friends, as they would know that the thanks would always be in their hearts. Deep in his heart, he knew that Ardeth was the brother he never had.  
  
But how was he going to get past the guards? His thoughts were interrupted by a knock at the back door and he started walking towards it, thinking it was Abdul-Khaaliq. He had seen Abdul earlier that morning, but not since then. Immersed in deep thought, he hesitated.  
  
Rick's thoughts took him back to the secrets revealed two nights before. He couldn't help the pity he felt for Abdul. Despite all the shame his father, Zouhir, had caused Abdul, Ardeth had made him one of his chosen warriors. To be a chosen warrior was a great honor in itself. And to be one of the Chosen meant the utmost confidence and solemn trust of the King in the man bestowed the title.  
  
But Rick and Evy both had been more than a little shocked to find out Abdul was only five years older than Ardeth. They had seen Abdul many times at the Medjai village, but had always assumed he was in his fifties. To realize that Abdul was only thirty-six had astounded them. Rick could only assume that the heavy personal burden he carried was instrumental in his rapid aging.  
  
There was another knock, pulling Rick out of deep thought and he opened the door. As per usual, there stood a black clad warrior with his face veiled. Rick realized this was not Abdul and made an inquisitive gesture.  
  
The warrior pulled down the veil. To Rick's utter surprise, Bahir, Ardeth's second in command, stood before him.  
  
"What are you doing here!?" exclaimed Rick. "Shouldn't you be protecting Ardeth? Who's watching out for him, huh?" Rick rattled out, very upset.  
  
Bahir raised a hand, letting Rick know his reaction had been understandable. "Ardeth sent me to protect you, initially," Bahir told him. "Do not fear, my friend, Shariyf is protecting Ardeth as we speak. But there is something I must speak with you about," Bahir said in a low voice.  
  
Rick motioned for Bahir to sit at the kitchen table. Both men sat and Rick waited for him to begin.  
  
"I believe you are acquainted with Shunnar, are you not?" Bahir inquired.  
  
"Yeah, that's Ardeth's father-in-law, I've seen him a few times. What about him?" asked Rick.  
  
Bahir did not know how to ask him; not knowing how Rick would react to this request. "Shunnar is a man of great wisdom and intuition. He sent word to me, contrary to Ardeth's orders, and has asked for you to accompany me back to rendezvous with the 1st and 8th tribes in the deep desert. In other words, Shunnar feels safer if you were by Ardeth's side in his confrontation with Zouhir," Bahir said. "For Shunnar to ask such a request is unheard of. To ask such a favor of an outsider, he would have to trust that person implicitly," Bahir tried to explain.  
  
Rick's countenance took on an honored expression. "I've been trying to figure out a way to get past all those guys out there," he chuckled. "When I went to check on Jonathan and Alex arriving at the airport, you're watchdogs practically interrogated me about my destination. Then they only would let me go if I had a couple of warriors accompany me. I tell you, Bahir, your guys really do a topnotch job. I have to give them credit for that," said Rick.  
  
Bahir nodded in acknowledgement of the great compliment given of their warriors.  
  
"But what about Evy? Jonathan and Alex got on a cruise boat in Greece. They won't arrive until tomorrow, according to the port manifest. I can't leave without knowing they have made it safely here," Rick said, voicing concern, torn between his family and his best friend's needs.  
  
"We know of your son and brother-in-law's whereabouts. They are under the watchful eye of our London brothers. The London Medjai boarded the boat shortly after your family members did. By the time they reach Egypt's shore, everything will be under control there," Bahir said, too late to catch the slip of his tongue.  
  
"What do you mean, everything will be under control? What's happened on the boat? I demand to know!" Rick barked.  
  
Sighing, knowing that he had made a big mistake in saying too much; Bahir began to explain. "Zouhir has connections in many places in other countries. One of his connections is on the cruise boat and has abducted your son and brother-in-law. The message sent told us that they were waiting to make sure all involved in this were caught. As of now, they should have taken control of the situation. Be assured, my friend, they will not allow any harm to come to them. They will sacrifice their lives before that would come to pass. Even though those Medjai are based in London, Ardeth is still their King, and their loyalty lies with him. They will do everything in their power to protect those that are in danger for their King's sake, rest assured."  
  
Rick sighed heavily, knowing that Bahir spoke the truth. He had met a couple of the London Medjai on one of Ardeth's visits to their home.  
  
"What about Evy?" asked Rick. "You know, she is gonna be really upset if I leave without her. I don't like the idea of leaving her here, even though I know your guys would protect her. I would feel better if she....."  
  
Rick didn't get to finish, as there was a commotion out on the estate grounds. Both Rick and Bahir ran to the back door. They saw Abdul-Khaaliq charging towards the door, scimitar drawn.  
  
"We're being attacked!" Abdul yelled. "They are attacking from all sides!" he said breathlessly.  
  
Bahir looked on in horror as he witnessed Medjai fighting Medjai. Realizing what had happened, he turned to Rick.  
  
"Get your wife to a safe place in your home, I will come and escort you both to safety, but first I must help my men." Looking around at the utter confusion, and wondering if he would survive it, Bahir devised a plan.  
  
Just as he was about to tell it to Rick, Evy ran out the garden entrance, gasping at the horrible sight.  
  
Bahir had seen her first, and charged towards her. He could hear bullets whizzing past as he desperately tried to reach her before she could be harmed. Rick saw where Bahir was headed, and saw another warrior running towards Evy.  
  
Ever so quickly, the man pulled out a dagger, throwing it with precision.  
  
Bahir reached Evy in time to spin her around, out of the dagger's path. However, he gasped as the dagger penetrated his back. He fell to the ground, taking Evy down with him, protecting her with his body.  
  
Rick reached them a few seconds too late. He saw the man who had thrown the dagger now with scimitar in hand, running towards the now prone Bahir. Rick, whose gun was already drawn, fired one shot, killed the menacing warrior.  
  
Rick quickly grabbed Bahir, turning him on his side to see if he was still alive. Hearing the sound of boots approaching rapidly, Rick turned, ready to fire again. Stopping suddenly, he realized it was Abdul-Khaaliq.  
  
Abdul stared in abject horror at the sight of his commander with the dagger in his back. Hurriedly, he knelt down beside his friend.  
  
"Bahir," Abdul said painfully, trying to rouse him.  
  
Bahir slowly opened his eyes, pain evident in them. "Abdul," he said, gasping for breath. "Hurry, take....the O'Connell's to....safety." Painfully continuing, he looked up at Abdul. "Please....my friend....I can....not. Help them."  
  
Evy sat at Bahir's side, crying for the man who had saved her life by willfully sacrificing his own. Ever so gently, she caressed his handsome face, trying to comfort him in his agony. Rick's eyes shone with tears, sorrow filled, knowing by the location of the wound that there was a great chance Bahir would not live. He knew full well that if it had not been for Bahir's sacrifice, it would be Evy lying there in his place.  
  
Being at a loss for words, Rick gently touched Bahir's shoulder. Bahir shakily raised a hand and grasped a hold of Rick's arm, understanding what Rick was thinking.  
  
Bahir stared intently into Rick's eyes, as he fought to remain conscious.  
  
"It was....worth the effort...my friend. Your wife....lives. May Allah bless....you....and keep....you safe from....harm. Promise me....you will do....all....you can....to help....Ardeth."  
  
"Bahir, I swear to you, I will be at his side, and will help him conquer these animals for once and for all," Rick said, voice breaking with raw emotion.  
  
Eternally thankful for Rick's solemn promise, Bahir looked at Abdul.  
  
"Abdul, go.my friend....take them to....Ardeth," Bahir said as unconsciousness claimed him.  
  
Abdul reached down quickly to check his neck for a pulse. Finding one-a very weak one-he yelled for a warrior running nearby to assist Bahir, as Abdul would honor Bahir's orders without question.  
  
"It's my fault," Abdul said despondently. "If I had gone with Zouhir, when he was banished, maybe all these atrocities done throughout the years could have been avoided."  
  
"How?" Rick questioned. "You can't blame yourself for your father's actions. Don't do this to yourself! We need you, Ardeth needs you. Ardeth wouldn't have placed such a sacred trust in you if he didn't believe in you. Zouhir is obviously coldhearted, and was that way even before he was banished. If you had went with him, who's to say he wouldn't have already killed you for not wanting to be like him? Don't! Please don't think like that. We need to concentrate on the task ahead of us, not start looking back at the what if's. You are a better man than your father. Don't give in to your hurt now. There will be a time for that, but now is not that time!  
  
Looking down at Bahir, Abdul nodded. He felt ashamed now, having given in to his pain in front of the people whose lives depended on him.  
  
Standing up, Abdul looked at Rick, and asked his forgiveness. Rick grabbed Abdul's shoulder, and told him there was nothing to forgive. He understood Abdul's painful burden, and how a man could be subdued by the emotional agony Abdul was feeling.  
  
Abdul nodded and turned to walk towards some of the warriors who had just finished taking out the rest of the enemy.  
  
The Medjai on the estate grounds had taken out most of the disguised enemy, taking a few captive.  
  
Rick ran inside the house and quickly gathered up his weapons pack, as well as many other weapons and ammunition he could lay his hands on.  
  
Abdul barked out orders to some of the warriors, and within minutes, one of the men approached with three horses.  
  
Abdul and the O'Connell's mounted them swiftly. Turning his horse around, Abdul took one last look at his fallen commander and friend, knowing that this would probably be the last time he would ever see him.  
  
Turning to the warriors, he gave his last orders, and told them to seek out Abu-Badr-Ahmad and tell him of what had transpired. Abdul ordered twenty- four warriors to go to the docks and wait for the cruise boat to arrive and assist the London Medjai in the protection of Carnahan and young Alex.  
  
Getting Bahir to a healer was Abdul's last order. If Bahir had even the slightest chance to survive, they had to get him to the healer in Cairo quickly. Silently, he prayed that Allah would spare his friend.  
  
With all orders finished, Abdul, Rick and Evy rode out into the street, flanked by Medjai guards, hoping for no more confrontations.  
  
But Abdul was unaware of the situation that had unfolded preceding the events at the estate. The Medjai surrounding the city of Cairo were waging their own battle against the enemy within. 


	8. Endless Love chapter 8

I would like to thank all ya'll for the nice reviews. Thanks for bearing with me on all the sad notes throughout the story...it will get better as time goes on...does anyone think there should be a sequel to this...I do...cause at the rate I'm going describing all the events...it'll be around 50 chps before I'm through...lol.  
  
ENDLESS LOVE CHAPTER 8  
  
THE PRICE OF DESTINY  
  
Shunnar and Shariyf were sitting by the campfire, watching Ardeth speak with a scouting party that had just returned.  
  
Shunnar had been discussing with Shariyf the previous night's altercation with Ardeth. Shunnar had been pleased with Shariyf's role of antagonist that proved beneficial in bringing Ardeth's fighting spirit back.  
  
"Shariyf, you did an excellent job last night. Thank you for bringing Ardeth back to us," Shunnar said with empathy, looking into Shariyf's battered features.  
  
"There is nothing I wouldn't do to help Ardeth, you know that. But I can't say that it was my pleasure!" Shariyf chuckled, immediately wincing at the pain from his split and bruised smiling lips.  
  
Shunnar shook his head and smiled, knowing that Ardeth's chosen warriors and many others as well would gladly stand in the face of any adversary, human or supernatural, for their king.  
  
Most of the warriors had already faced many trials alongside Ardeth Bey. The greatest trial of all happened the year before against the mighty Army of Anubis.*  
  
Ardeth, never afraid in the face of adversity, had stood steadfast and in total control as that army of jackals formed before their very eyes.  
  
Shunnar remembered how proud he was of Ardeth as he watched him from a distance; in the front line of his own warriors, as was each commander. Ardeth sat on his magnificent black stallion, reflecting impenetrable fortitude in front of the line of all his commanders.  
  
Many a warrior had drawn strength from Ardeth Bey that day. He was, by far, the bravest man Shunnar had ever known.  
  
Shunnar's thoughts were interrupted by the sounds of an approaching falcon. The falcon descended and landed on Ardeth's wrist.  
  
Ardeth removed the message and read it. He stumbled to the ground, squeezing his eyes shut with the magnitude of the message's contents.  
  
Both Shariyf and Shunnar hurried to his side. Shunnar tried to pry the crumpled message from Ardeth's tightly clenched fist, but was unsuccessful because of his son-in-law's adrenaline induced strength.  
  
Without a word, Ardeth stood up suddenly and bolted for his horse.  
  
Shunnar and Shariyf glanced at each other, wondering what horrible news had spurred this sudden reaction from him.  
  
Both men followed Ardeth, and Shariyf reached him first. Grabbing Ardeth by the arm, he spun him around and immediately took a step back, very familiar with Ardeth's explosive temper when provoked.  
  
Shunnar had reached Shariyf's side just in time as Ardeth raised his eyes. A fire blazed uncontrollably in the depths of those expressive orbs, threatening to consume any and all in their path.  
  
"The fifth tribe has been infiltrated with the enemy," Ardeth finally said. "Last night, there was a full-scale attack not only on the outskirts of Cairo; but in the city as well. They have attacked at the O'Connell's estate. Abdul has escaped with the O'Connell's and are headed in our direction. I will go back and meet them," Ardeth told them, with firm resolve.  
  
"Where is Bahir?" worried Shariyf.  
  
Ardeth hesitated in mounting, resting his forehead against the saddle. Thinking of the news of his dear friend caused so much pain, he didn't know if he could even speak it. Too much pain, far too much pain. This week had brought more personal suffering to Ardeth than any man should have to bear.  
  
Silently, Ardeth opened his hand and Shariyf retrieved the message. Shariyf read the message intently, his expression reflecting all that had transpired. However, when he read the last sentence, his eyes widened with fear for his friend and sorrow laced his features.  
  
Shunnar grabbed the message slip from Shariyf and read it for himself, as both Ardeth and Shariyf were not divulging anymore information.  
  
"No, no, no, no!" yelled Shunnar, his mind fully absorbing the impact of the message.  
  
How much more personal suffering could Ardeth take? How much more could any of them take? Shunnar pondered over these thoughts and looked at Ardeth.  
  
"Bahir is a strong man, Ardeth. He will fight to live," Shunnar said encouragingly.  
  
Ardeth didn't respond as he mounted his horse.  
  
Shunnar grabbed the reins. "Ardeth." He could not say more. He knew that nothing he could say would change Ardeth's mind, so he let go of the reins with a sigh.  
  
Ardeth gave one last look at Shunnar and Shariyf.  
  
"Keep going south, I will join you after I rendezvous with Abdul and O'Connell," Ardeth said. "We will meet up with you at the oasis. Wait there for us."  
  
Orders given, Ardeth spurred his horse and galloped in the direction of Cairo.  
  
"Shariyf, go with him!" Shunnar said in a worried tone.  
  
"I'm already there," responded Shariyf, picking up his saddle.  
  
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~  
  
Shunnar paced relentlessly, wondering what Shariyf and Ardeth were up to. The two tribes had traveled the next day and now had arrived at the oasis. The trail was totally obliterated by the sandstorm the night before. Ardeth had not even divulged the destination of their trek, but in his heart, Shunnar knew that it was the caverns. He feared for Ardeth more than ever. Shunnar felt that this would be Ardeth's last battle.  
  
He knew Ardeth well; knew that his son-in-law could sense a trap, even when there was not a shred of evidence to support the suspicion. But now, Ardeth was like a man driven. This was the greatest trap of all time, an inescapable trap of such magnitude that the Medjai may never recover from the after-affects.  
  
Since Ardeth had been very young, Shunnar had seen all the qualities befitting the King of the Medjai. The blood of many kings flowed through Ardeth Bey's veins; many great and powerful kings from hallowed antiquity.  
  
The Bey family had been the ruling bloodline of the Medjai for thousands of years, even before the first Medjai was ever bestowed the title, 'Protector of the Pharoahs'. Their existence as a warrior nation had begun far earlier than that; three thousand years prior to their cooperation with Pharoah Seti I, the Medjai people were a thriving nation, a warrior race of people; built upon justice and integrity. This story of their heritage was a well- guarded secret. No one outside of the King, the commanders and elders, knew the whole history of the Medjai, and that had been the way of things since the time of the Great Betrayal. Now the only evidence lay in the deep caverns; in the dark recesses of a cave long since sealed.  
  
Shunnar silently hoped that Ardeth's judgment would not be impaired by the silent rage now burning from the innermost depths of his tortured soul.  
  
THE EVIL THAT MEN DO  
  
Ardeth had traveled several miles before Shariyf had caught up to him. Shariyf rode up beside him and half-expected to hear Ardeth's rebuttal of Shariyf's recalcitrant defiance.  
  
They continued their trek, side by side, not saying a word.  
  
Shariyf had had enough of this silent treatment. "Say something, anything! Go ahead and yell at me, I don't care!" Shariyf exclaimed, exasperated.  
  
Still no words permeated through the deafening silence  
  
"Ardeth!" shouted Shariyf.  
  
Ardeth turned to look at Shariyf; a look of annoyance in his eyes.  
  
"I told you and Shunnar to take the men and meet me at the oasis," Ardeth said, aggravation lacing his words. "You disobeyed my orders!" he growled at his friend.  
  
"I have vowed to Bahir to protect you with my life, and I intend to honor that vow. Even if it means to go against your orders, I have to respect his wish, especially since it may have been his last," Shariyf said, sadness reflecting in his voice. "I owe him that much. You may reprimand me later, but you are not going to change my mind. I would live in regret the rest of my life if something happened to you and I was not there to try and prevent it."  
  
Ardeth looked at Shariyf, shaking his head with a slight smile on his lips.  
  
"Shariyf, my friend, I admire your loyalty, your wisdom and tenacity. But you are disobedient to my commands. You'll make the perfect Elder someday," Ardeth said with a big grin.  
  
Shariyf laughed loud and grimaced, putting a hand over his split lip. "Well, thank you my friend," he said. "I hope we both live through this to see that day, as you are much better qualified for that position than I am!"  
  
"Arrrgghhh!" Ardeth growled at Shariyf's ability to turn the tables on him. Shariyf had always been good at that. But Ardeth knew that his friend had spoken the truth.  
  
Ardeth just hoped that if they both did live to see that day, that Bahir would make it through his injury to be with them. What Elders the three of them would make indeed!  
  
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~  
  
Ardeth and Shariyf had traveled fairly fast, only stopping to rest and water their horses.  
  
"Ardeth, we're almost out of water," Shariyf said. "We can divert to the small oasis to the west. We'll only lose half a day at most."  
  
Ardeth knew that Shariyf was right; water was a life and death issue out in the desert. They had no choice but to divert their course.  
  
The two warriors turned westward and continued for about two hours. Coming over some high dunes, they could see wispy tendrils of smoke in the distance. Quickly surveying the area for signs of a trap, they raced their weary horses over several more dunes and came upon the remains of a caravan that had been savagely attacked.  
  
Ardeth and Shariyf ran amongst the charred remains of what once were men. It was obvious that all animals and valuables had been confiscated.  
  
"Who were these men?" wondered Shariyf. "And what were they doing this deep in the desert?"  
  
Shariyf as well as Ardeth knew that no one except the Medjai would even venture this deep in the wilderness. Not even Tuaregs and Bedouins would venture this far.  
  
Reaching down and picking up a small handmade doll, Ardeth let out a forlorn sigh.  
  
"They have taken women and children," Ardeth said disgustedly. He hated dealing with men who were far less in status than animals.  
  
Shariyf stared at the doll in Ardeth's hand.  
  
"This is a despicable act of blatant barbarism," Shariyf replied with equal disgust.  
  
Standing up, Ardeth, still holding the doll, headed for his horse.  
  
"We have to find them, Shariyf."  
  
"No Ardeth! We have to get to Cairo as soon as possible. It is a sad thing, yes, but we can't help these people. We are just two. For this scale of attack, they have many men involved. We would be walking into a deathtrap! I'm not letting you do this!" Shariyf snapped.  
  
"I am in charge here! Have you forgotten this?" Ardeth snapped back. "Since when do you tell me what to do?!"  
  
"Since you lost your mind!" yelled Shariyf.  
  
Ardeth glared at his friend, knowing well that Shariyf was thinking in a logical frame of mind. But all Ardeth could think of was the women and children that were being subjected to all manner of cruelty. Seeing in his mind the brutality bestowed upon his wife and daughters, he shuddered. His tortured soul, knowing well that the right thing to do, was not necessarily the logical thing to do.  
  
He spurred his horse forward, looking for tracks.  
  
Shariyf swore under his breath and dutifully followed Ardeth, as he had found the tracks leading further west.  
  
"They are heading for the oasis," Ardeth said. "Well, we were heading that direction anyway, Shariyf. That leaves us no choice but to confront them."  
  
Shariyf said nothing, following his King and friend.  
  
Ardeth kept studying the wide set of tracks. He spat on the ground in disgust, seeing at least a dozen set of camel tracks and many footprints; small prints varying in size from women's, to the size of children as small as toddlers.  
  
"They are going to pay with their lives for this," Ardeth said angrily, seeing that they had made the women and children walk on the hot desert sand, some having no shoes.  
  
Anger was beginning to outweigh the logic of Shariyf's mind. He understood Ardeth's feelings completely. Whoever did this had no respect for women and their children, no respect for anyone at all. Now, he was just as eager as Ardeth to issue justice for this crime. Now, deep inside, he felt shame for his reaction earlier.  
  
"Ardeth, forgive me, my friend," Shariyf said, looking down at the tiny barefooted prints. "It is not that I don't care for their welfare-"  
  
Ardeth waved a hand to stop him. He knew how kind-hearted Shariyf was, deep down inside the tough warrior exterior. "There is nothing to forgive, Shariyf. These are very perilous time we are facing; it is very hard to decide what is right to do. We can only let our heart guide us sometimes. Of course, that type of decision can get us deeper in trouble. However, I feel in my heart that this is the right thing to do."  
  
Together, they hurried on toward the oasis, traveling for about a half an hour, before they had the group in sight. Shariyf turned to Ardeth with a shocked expression. The group of men were dressed in the clothing of the Medjai.  
  
Ardeth and Shariyf looked on at the sight in utter confusion. Surely not! Their brothers had committed this crime?  
  
Shariyf grew more angry by the minute, as he could see the men on camels, leaning forward and hitting the stumbling women and children with whips to make them walk faster.  
  
"There are fifteen of them and two of us. We need to use the element of surprise to take them down," Ardeth said.  
  
"I can't believe our own people have done such a thing!" hissed Shariyf.  
  
"I don't believe they are our people," Ardeth said. "Remember the message about the surprise attack? Abdul said the men were disguised as Medjai. I believe these are some of those men."  
  
Watching a small child fall and not get up, Ardeth closed his eyes sorrowfully, knowing the child had finally succumbed to the abuse and harsh elements of the desert. Silently, he cursed himself for not being able to save that child's life.  
  
"We can't waste anymore time," Ardeth stated, angry at himself. "Shariyf, you flank north, I'll flank them from the south. We will attack from the sides. No honor this time, these men are less than dogs, they do not deserve an honorable death. We take as many as possible with rifles, quickly and efficiently. But I want one of them alive. I have many questions that need answers."  
  
Shariyf nodded, knowing Ardeth's many battle tactics. He spurred his horse and headed a little ways north, out of view as he flanked the unsuspecting men.  
  
Ardeth did the same flanking them from the south.  
  
Within a matter of just ten minutes, the attack began.  
  
The woman and children fell to the ground as bullets from nowhere began to pick out targets on camels. The men looked confused, trying to find what direction this attack was coming from. The women continued to protectively cover the young children from the bullets. The men began to fire frantically in all directions, desperately trying to hit a target, but could not find one.  
  
Only one man was left. He urged his camel into a full run as he retreated from the scene, in fear for his life.  
  
Shariyf came over a dune on his horse right into the path of the frightened man. Shariyf quickly pulled his scimitar from its sheath and dared the man to try and leave.  
  
"STOP animal! Or you will find out what it feels like to be skinned alive!" Shariyf spat on the ground in front of the now very frightened man. "How dare you wear the clothes of a Medjai!"  
  
With that spoken, Ardeth came forward from the opposite direction, pulling his face covering down. This invoked an even greater terror in the man, now seeing who it was he really faced. The man didn't bother with making the camel sit, as he jumped off, falling hard onto the ground. He crawled forward to Ardeth's feet, and bowed before him. Begging for his life, he continued to grovel at Ardeth's feet. Anger rising at the cowardice displayed, and seeing the mother of the child who had fallen in death at the feet of this very same man, now cradling her dead child she had carried from the spot he had fallen; Ardeth gave him a quick kick to the head, sending the man sprawling on the sand. The man backed up on his elbows, afraid of what would transpire next. He could see the all-consuming fire burning in Ardeth's eyes.  
  
"Why did you attack the caravan? What purpose did it serve you? Answer me!" Ardeth's unbridled anger raging in his voice.  
  
He picked up the man by the front of his robes. Staring into the man's frightened face, he continued to interrogate him about the attack. "Who sent you to do this? Who is your leader?" Ardeth asked to no avail. Throwing the man down, he kicked him with such a pent-up ferocity; Shariyf surely feared that the man would die before any answers were given.  
  
Shariyf grabbed Ardeth and tried to pull him back. "Ardeth, stop! Remember we need answers!" Shariyf tried desperately to reason with him.  
  
Ardeth stopped, closing his eyes for a moment. Without any warning, he picked the man up again by his robes. Ardeth dragged the man over to the spot where the women and children were huddled together. Ardeth threw the man down on the ground in front of the crying woman with the dead little boy cradled in her arms. Ardeth looked down at the little child, realizing that he was around the same age as his little Alia had been.  
  
"Beg her forgiveness, dog!" Ardeth snarled in the man's face. "Grovel at her feet, like you did to me. I want to see it! I want to see you beg her forgiveness for the loss of her child's. I want to see you beg forgiveness from all these women! Beg them for your worthless life!" Ardeth yelled, nearly losing control. His pent-up rage now raining down upon the man like a hailstorm sent from God above.  
  
The young woman flinched at the sound of Ardeth's angered voice. She started to huddle closer to the other women, still clutching her child to her breast.  
  
The frightened man began to babble something inaudible. Ardeth grabbed his hair and pulled his head back.  
  
"If you wish to live one more moment, it would be wise of you to tell us all you know," Ardeth growled.  
  
The man stared in stark terror at the formidable Medjai King, knowing well that he meant every word he had spoken.  
  
"We were bringing word to Faid, of the attack at Cairo. We came across the caravan. Ajib thought it to be profitable to attack and take the women and children for slave trade. We didn't know you would be here, thought you were at the camp near the great oasis. We needed water and diverted west," the man said rather shakily.  
  
"How did you know we were camped near the oasis?" Ardeth said, growing very suspicious.  
  
"Faid is there with many men. He will have attacked your camp by now. He was expecting you to be there when the attack took place," the man said warily.  
  
"Who is this Faid?" asked Shariyf. "Why would he have expected our King to be in the camp?"  
  
Silence was all Shariyf's got for an answer. Having had enough of the riddle playing game, it was Shariyf's turn to grab a hold of the man. Pulling his head back by his hair at a very painful angle, he glared into the man's terrified eyes.  
  
"Why?" Shariyf snarled into the man's face.  
  
The man began to hyperventilate from terror, knowing that his life would soon be coming to a close. "Faid was ordered to capture the Medjai King and bring him to the caverns," he said cautiously.  
  
"Ordered by whom?" Shariyf continued. "And why do they want Ardeth Bey?"  
  
"By Zouhir, our leader. He wants to have the King watch as he kills his mother, and his friends, the O'Connell's," the man looked down at the sand, knowing that he would be dead either way for divulging the secret information.  
  
"Zouhir," Shariyf spat out the name as if he could taste the filth of it.  
  
"The O'Connell's have escaped with some of our men. They are at least safe for the time being. But what about Shatarra?" Shariyf asked, fear rising in his voice.  
  
Ardeth, hearing the name of his mother, had to turn away from the scene to compose himself. He couldn't bear the thought of his mother in the hands of these animals.  
  
"Have they abducted my mother?" Ardeth snarled, shaking the man vigorously.  
  
The man flinched under the onslaught of anger assaulting him. He whimpered, and nodded in response.  
  
Ardeth stood up. No words could even describe the pain and anger his mind and body were being subjected to. His legs started to buckle under the great stress of the weight of the situation. His knees fell hard on the sand, his head bent down. He could not bear the loss of his mother, there was no way; too many people had died. Too many so precious to him. Revenge was the price Ardeth had to pay for, but retribution was far too little a settlement in terms.  
  
Shariyf looked down at the man one more time. No longer caring what anyone thought, nor being in the presence of the women and children, he raised his scimitar high above his head, ready to strike a killing blow. The man screamed out that Ardeth's mother was not dead, nor in the company of the group of men near the great oasis. He pointed to the group of women still lying on the ground.  
  
Ardeth looked over at the women and children. The man kept pointing over to them. Now realizing what the man was saying, Ardeth jumped up quickly, and ran over to the group of women. He frantically looked over the faces; there was one whose face he could not see. She was lying on her side, her robe's hood hiding her features, suffering from severe exhaustion. He gently turned her face to face him; it was Shatarra.  
  
Ardeth gently caressed his mother's cheek. Her skin was hot and very dry; Ardeth knew he had to get water in her quickly. She groaned as he touched her shoulder. Feeling the reason for her weak moan under his hand, Ardeth looked up with agony in his eyes at Shariyf. She had been beaten with a whip.  
  
Needing no words to be spoken, Ardeth nodded to Shariyf.  
  
Shariyf knew exactly what was on Ardeth's mind. They had all the answers they needed; now was the time to exact punishment for the crime. Shariyf grabbed the man by his robe and dragged him over the nearest sand dune. Shariyf then raised his scimitar one more time and struck the killing blow.  
  
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~  
  
Ardeth and Shariyf hurriedly gave out the canteens to the women they had brought with them. Ardeth gently raised his mother's head onto his lap and tried to get her to sip a little water. He had a hard time rousing her; being in such a dehydrated state. He finally managed to get a trickle of water to go down her throat. Ardeth kept trying to quietly speak to her, not wanting to frighten her awake.  
  
Finally, she opened her eyes.  
  
Shatarra thought she was dreaming. Her precious son was looking down at her, giving her sips of water. She didn't want the dream to end, she had not seen or heard from her son since he had left on this journey. She had hoped to have had some word of him. Two nights before, the enemy, posed as Medjai, came to her tent. Thinking that they were true Medjai, she had asked them if they had any word of Ardeth, and they had told her that they did. But she had been greatly deceived; it was the dead of night, when they had come and abducted her. They had used chloroform to make her lose consciousness. Then she had awoken in one of the enemies' arms. Since she was awake, she was made to walk the long distance, but every so often, allowed to ride because of her great age. Then they had encountered the caravan. After this, she was made to walk with the others nonstop.  
  
A shaky hand reached up to see if the apparition above her was real. Ardeth took hold of his mother's hand and gently guided it to his face. He kissed her hand and smiled as she continued to caress his cheek. She tried to speak, but was too hoarse from lack of water.  
  
"Shhh," Ardeth said, smiling lovingly into her face. "Everything is going to be alright."  
  
Ardeth felt a hand on his shoulder. He looked up into the most beautifully colored eyes he had ever seen. The intensity of the unique blue color mesmerized him. He was looking up into the face of the young woman whose child had died.  
  
Sorrow was in those beautiful eyes. She looked at Ardeth sympathetically; knowing now that the woman she had tried to help earlier was this warrior's mother.  
  
Another woman came forward, offering her assistance to Ardeth. She motioned for him to get up and that she would take over for a while.  
  
Ardeth stood, now towering over the young woman. Her eyes never left his. Ardeth could feel the apprehensiveness that filled her being. He gently touched her face. She pulled back a little, having seen his rage shortly before.  
  
"Please, I will not hurt you," Ardeth told her gently. "I'm so sorry that I could not have saved your child," he said, averting his eyes in remorse.  
  
Finally, she spoke to him.  
  
"There was nothing you could have done. You didn't even know about the attack. But I thank Allah that you were able to save the other children, and us."  
  
Ardeth turned his eyes upon her again, not really knowing what to say. There were no words that could counter the loss of her child. He was one who knew that feeling very well. Ardeth was about to speak, when Shariyf came up to them. Bowing respectfully to the woman, for her loss, he asked to speak with Ardeth alone.  
  
"I know that this will be hard for the woman, but we should bury her child before we travel any farther," Shariyf said.  
  
"I will speak with her," Ardeth hesitantly replied, not ready to see another young life senselessly committed to the ground.  
  
"May I ask your name?" Ardeth asked of the young woman.  
  
"I am Hayat," she spoke shyly. "My son's name was Jabaar."  
  
"We must bury your son very soon, as we must leave for the oasis," Ardeth said, wishing for a way to comfort her.  
  
Tears flowing from her eyes, she looked up into Ardeth's. "Then let it be so," she replied with as much strength as possible.  
  
Ardeth and Shariyf gently prepared the little boy for burial. Quickly, they dug the grave, and let the mother see her child one more time.  
  
She cradled him and began to wail in anguish. Shariyf could see that Ardeth was reliving the suffering he had felt at the graveside of his family. He knew that Ardeth couldn't take much more of this anguish.  
  
Ardeth gently took the child from his mother's arms and laid his little body in the grave. All the while he silently cursed the vile men who had done this atrocious act.  
  
Shariyf started to shovel the sand into the grave. Ardeth helped Hayat up and kept a hold of her weak body. She had already been weak from lack of water and the heat of the desert. But now, the physical and emotional torment was much too much for her. Hayat buried her face into Ardeth's robes. He embraced her comfortingly, wishing he could have spared her the sight of her child being buried.  
  
"Come, we must leave now," Ardeth said, looking down at the top of her head. Her hair was the color of a raven, reflecting a bluish tint in the bright sun.  
  
"We must go to the oasis, then we shall find you and the other women a safe haven. We have a mission that we must accomplish. Then we shall come back for you and we will bring you back to your homelands. To your family."  
  
"I have no family now," Hayat said, looking over the great expanse of the desert. "My husband was in the caravan, as were all the other women's husbands. They are all dead now. I do not want to go back, nor do these women. My husband's father is a cruel man."  
  
"Then you and the women and children shall have sanctuary in my tribe," Ardeth stated, hating the knowledge of how some men treated their women. "I am very sorry," Ardeth said with empathy.  
  
"Do not be sorry for the loss of my husband. He was a prince from the Arabia's, he paid for me to be his wife. He did treat me fairly well, but I did not love him. The women and men that were with us were his servants, as were their children."  
  
Ardeth was well aware of arranged marriages, as his had been one. But the only difference was that he and Bahiyaa had loved each other from their very early years. He didn't like the idea of the children being servants as well. He didn't like the idea of servants at all. To him, 'servant' was just a polite term for 'slave'. Ardeth shook his head in disgust.  
  
"You do not have servants?" Hayat asked of Ardeth.  
  
"We do not own people," Ardeth stated, still disgusted.  
  
"Who are you people, and why did some of your men attack our caravan? You seemed very angry at them having attacked us. And who are you?" she finished her barrage of questions.  
  
Ardeth understood her confusion at the fact that the men were dressed up as Medjai.  
  
"They are not of our people. They are our enemy, who we must go and confront. We are on a mission, as I stated earlier. They have infiltrated one of our tribes. These men who attacked your caravan were a part of this network of murderers."  
  
Taken by this man's extraordinarily handsome features and kind manner to women, she boldly reached up, tracing the tattoos on his cheek, as she gazed into his dark amber eyes.  
  
"But who are you?" she asked again.  
  
"We are the Medjai," he stated.  
  
Shariyf broke into the conversation with excitement in his voice.  
  
A falcon was approaching from the south. Ardeth took the message off it and read it.  
  
"It is from Shunnar. They have been attacked. They have sustained a few injuries, but no deaths. Shunnar also informs us that the leader of the group escaped. And they all were dressed as Medjai," Ardeth told Shariyf.  
  
Ardeth began to wonder just how large a network of criminals they were really facing.  
  
Shariyf and Ardeth gathered up all the women and children and put them on the camels. They continued westward to the oasis.  
  
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~  
  
The women began to talk to each other at a rapid pace. Hayat, having heard what the women were saying, pointed towards the north. "More men are coming," she stated in fear.  
  
On the horizon, rode more black clad warriors, bearing down on their location.  
  
Ardeth and Shariyf, knowing the oasis was but a half hour away, wanted to fight there, if necessary.  
  
All the women and children had been riding on the camels left over from the slain enemy for but a mere fifteen minutes now. They could see the oasis in a short distance.  
  
By the time they reached the oasis, Ardeth knew they would have virtually no time before these warriors met up with them. Wary of whether they were friend or foe, Ardeth and Shariyf worked on a plan of action. As they did this, the women began to quickly fill canteens with water as the animals drank their fill.  
  
Having hidden the women, children, and animals in the oasis, Shariyf and Ardeth lay in wait.  
  
As the group approached the oasis to refresh themselves, Ardeth breathed a great sigh of relief. He and Shariyf stepped out of opposite locations.  
  
Before them stood Abdul, Rick, Evy and twenty other warriors; the O'Connell's both concealed in Medjai robes. 


	9. Endless Love Chapter 9

As always, thanks for the wonderful reviews and compliments. I appreciate them so much. Hope this chapter makes some sense...I had to hopscotch here and there...I normally don't do that...  
  
  
  
ENDLESS LOVE CHAPTER 9  
  
ANTICIPATION  
  
Hours seemed like days to Jonathan, as he waited for those ruffians to leave the room. He knew that they had to get tired of sitting around looking at him. He needed to see Alex, needed to know if he was all right. He knew that Rick and Evy would really be upset with him if anything happened to their son.  
  
Finally, the two thugs left the room for a bite to eat.  
  
Jonathan, still bound to the chair, had not thought about the pocketknife he had in his right trouser pocket. Suddenly remembering it was there; he tried to retrieve it. After trying several times to maneuver his tied hands, he finally succeeded in poking a finger in his pocket, giving him a slight grip to work with. Jonathan continued to struggle until he finally managed to retrieve the knife. Now he just hoped he would be able to open it without dropping it.  
  
Carefully, Jonathan opened the knife, keeping a tight grip on its casing, and proceeded to saw at the rope binding his hands. It proved to be a very difficult task, but he somehow managed to make progress slowly, as the rope was quite thick.  
  
He stopped as soon as he heard the footsteps outside the door. At the sound of the knob turning, he quickly turned his attention to the door and carefully slid the knife on the inside of his tied hands to hide it from view.  
  
In came Fremantle and the two thugs that had been with him earlier.  
  
"We shall be reaching Egypt's shore in a few hours. I was wondering, what would you like for your last meal?" Fremantle smirked. "They have excellent cuisine on this boat and thought you might like to have a nice meal, at least."  
  
As hungry as Jonathan was, he didn't want to give Fremantle so much as the pleasure. He was about to turn down the offer, but thought about Alex in the other room. Maybe this would buy him some time to get loose of the ropes, and get to Alex. He could only hope that his quickly devised plan would work.  
  
"Well, you know, ole chap, I am quite hungry," Jonathan smiled back, mockingly. "I would love to have a nice last meal. It would do me some good, you know. How about my nephew? Are you going to give him the privilege as well?"  
  
"Why of course! It would betray my good manners not to!" Fremantle feigned a shocked expression.  
  
"All right then, I would like the finest meal on this boat for my nephew and myself," Jonathan went along. "And don't forget, all the trimmings too! For me, I'd also like the finest bottle of wine this boat has."  
  
"I'll say, you sure know how to order a meal when someone else is buying it," Fremantle laughed. "OH, thats right! I forgot, you are paying for it, aren't you? In more ways than one!" Fremantle said with an evil grin. "We'll be back with your sumptuous meal and bottle of wine in a short while," he said. "You be a good ole chap now, and sit tight until we get back."  
  
Jonathan grinned back equally, glad that they were all leaving now. Now he could try and finish getting loose from his bonds. He needed to get to Alex before they came back, and he knew that this might be the only chance he would get.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Down the hall, the London based Medjai waited. They had disguised themselves in clothing of the Egyptian common man. Their clothing was similar to many who were on the boat as second-class passengers, returning to Egypt. They looked at each other to decide if they would pass for Egyptian peasants. Their faces and hands were covered by a concealing makeup. With a nod of approval, Quadir, Shakil, and Yazeed-the three London Medjai-walked into the hallway leading to the adjoining hall where the British prisoners were being held. They each walked with faces looking downward as was normal for servants.  
  
Stealthily, they approached the second door down, where Jonathan was being held captive. Quadir, knowing that the enemy would be returning shortly, sent Yazeed to stand watch in the hallway perpendicular to this passage. Shakil stood at the t-fork, waiting for any signal from Yazeed.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Jonathan was furiously cutting at the ropes restraining him. He knew that time was short, and he had to get finished before Fremantle came back. He was losing strength, having to cut at such an odd angle. He stopped briefly to rest his cramping hands. Looking up, he was quite shocked to see a man standing on the inside of the door. Jonathan didn't know who this was, as he was wearing a cloaked robe. Fear crossed Jonathan's face. He hadn't even heard the man enter.  
  
The man waved his hand and motioned him to be quiet.  
  
"Do not be afraid, Mr. Carnahan. We are here to help you and your nephew," the cloaked figure said.  
  
"Who are you?" asked Jonathan quizzically.  
  
"I am Quadir, of the London Medjai," the man said, pulling his hood back.  
  
A great sigh of relief rushed out of Jonathan.  
  
'Great, wonderful, the Medjai are on the boat!' thought Jonathan.  
  
"We have followed you from England. We were sent word from our brothers in Egypt that there was a great adversary at work against our people. They are also after your family as well. We followed to protect you," Quadir said.  
  
"Great, now, how about getting me loose of these ropes," Jonathan said, excited, as he could see freedom on the horizon.  
  
"Not yet, my friend," Quadir informed Jonathan. "We have to make sure that all involved are caught and punished. If we release you now, then the enemy will be aware of our presence. We have to wait until we reach Egypt to rescue you. This group of criminals is very large. If we do not get them all, then they will continue their attacks and we will have accomplished nothing."  
  
"But what if they try and hurt us before we reach Egypt, there are only a few hours left before we get there, what if they get itchy fingers?" Jonathan said, his tone reflecting anxiety.  
  
"Rest assured that they will not. Their leader is a very harsh man and would punish them severely for taking the pleasure of your deaths away from him," Quadir informed him.  
  
Jonathan swallowed hard, realizing that Quadir had just substantiated Fremantle's ostentatious boasting.  
  
"We have wired our Cairo brothers, they will be waiting to assist us in taking down the enemy. Just go along with whatever they say, do not try and fight to get away. The Medjai will take care of everything, and you will be free. Then, our Cairo brothers will escort you to rendezvous with your family," Quadir explained. "I have to leave now, before they come back. Be confident that we are watching, we know everything that is going on."  
  
Quadir turned around and started for the door.  
  
"Wait!" Jonathan exclaimed.  
  
Quadir turned to face Jonathan.  
  
"I haven't even seen my nephew! I don't know if he is all right or not!" exclaimed Jonathan.  
  
Quadir walked the few steps to where Jonathan was seated. Bending over slightly, he whispered words of encouragement to Jonathan.  
  
"He is all right, I assure you," Quadir said, resting a hand on Jonathan's shoulder. "As I have already stated, they wouldn't dare think to rob their leader of his pleasure. Their own lives would be forfeit."  
  
"But have you seen Alex, you know, did you check in on him? Have they hurt him?" Jonathan rambled, very concerned.  
  
"Yes, I checked in on him before I entered your room. He is unharmed, and is currently asleep," Quadir informed him.  
  
With that said, Quadir left the room.  
  
Jonathan felt confident that he could trust this man. He knew that the Medjai were well known for their truthfulness and honor. He now felt a little comfort in knowing that Alex was all right for the time being. But still he wished that Quadir had helped him and Alex escape before they reached Egypt's shores. Jonathan thought the matter over and decided that if the Medjai were staging an attack, then he had better let things ride as they were. But still and all, he didn't enjoy the fact that he had to sit there and listen to Fremantle's patronizing comments and insults.  
  
Jonathan sat there, still quite astonished that the man just left him there for these hooligans to come back and taunt. He resigned himself to the fact that he would so graciously leave all the rescue plans in the ever- qualified Medjai hands.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
At the docks, the Medjai waited, invisible to all passersby. They had all disguised themselves as commoners. Waiting and watching, they sat in various locations along the docks.  
  
"Have we had any word on Bahir's condition?" asked Quadamah, second in command of the Cairo Medjai, concern in his voice for an old friend.  
  
"Iskandar is doing all he can. The wound is very serious and Iskandar said it is unlikely that Bahir will survive," answered Uzmir, the warrior in charge of the Cairo Medjai, eyes aimlessly scanning the ground. "But he is young and strong. He has a lot of reasons to fight for his life. I heard that his wife is with child," Uzmir added, hoping that Bahir would prove the healer wrong.  
  
Quadamah's eyes met Uzmir's with this startling revelation. He now realized just how great a sacrifice Bahir had made.  
  
"His actions in saving the Englishwoman's life was a very noble act," Quadamah said, pride laced with a hint of sorrow, reflecting in his voice.  
  
"Indeed it was," added Uzmir.  
  
Uzmir, looking around casually, tried to inconspicuously locate the other Medjai amongst all the shabbily dressed peasants.  
  
"Is everyone at the designated locations?" asked Uzmir.  
  
"All is ready, and Allah willing, we shall overcome all involved," responded Quadamah. "Wadid and Tyreek have spotted a few small groups of suspicious looking men. These men are keeping a distance between those waiting for the boat to arrive and themselves. They are being watched closely. Wadid overheard a little of a conversation taking place of the group by the grain warehouse. They were talking when he walked by."  
  
Quadamah looked down at his ragged robes, and gave a half-smile.  
  
"Our disguises must be working," said Quadamah, now looking at Uzmir's tattered robes. He hated to wear anything other than his Medjai clothing, but living in the city, he had learned to adapt to wearing the attire of a Cairo businessman. But these rags were just a little too much for him to handle. Quadamah was anxious to save this Carnahan and the boy, Alex, and leave the city and get back into his beloved Medjai black.  
  
Quadamah, getting his mind back on the present subject instead of his shoddy attire, continued.  
  
"The men continued to talk, thinking that he was a peasant. However, Wadid heard them say something about Ardeth and the caverns. One man had said that Ardeth had been captured by someone called Faid," Quadamah continued. "Wadid also heard them say something about meeting in the grain warehouse."  
  
Uzmir raised an inquisitive eyebrow, knowing well that Ardeth was on his way to Cairo at this very moment. Word had come from Shunnar, whose men and those of the First tribe had been attacked by this so-called Faid. Ardeth had left a couple of hours prior to the attack.  
  
"So their news is old news, I see," said Uzmir. "They only know that Ardeth was supposed to be captured. I see they are very confident that this has already transpired. However, as we know the truth of the matter, Ardeth had left before the attack of this Faid. I imagine that Faid was supposed to bring Ardeth to Zouhir in the caverns. What a pity. I can only imagine what fate awaits Faid. Zouhir will be very angry, once he finds out that Faid has failed in his mission," Uzmir smiled, knowing that the plan had been foiled.  
  
"Place some of our warriors in strategic locations around the warehouse," Uzmir said. "Be as inconspicuous as possible. We cannot let even one of them get away."  
  
"Knowledge is power," replied Quadamah, as he casually began to walk away to carry out Uzmir's orders.  
  
"Yes, it is," Uzmir responded, as Quadamah turned to leave. "Their absence of accurate communications may very well work to our advantage."  
  
Off on the horizon, they could see a large luxury boat heading to the port docks. The disguised Medjai were anxious to get this group under their control. The Cairo Medjai were disgusted with this group's contemptible behavior and were ready to end it, once and for all. All they needed to do now was wait for the right moment and spring the trap that they had prepared.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Fremantle walked back and forth in the room where Jonathan was held captive. He rubbed his hands together vigorously, very excited about the upcoming events. He turned to look at Jonathan, giving him his famous wicked grin.  
  
"We're almost there!" Fremantle exclaimed. "Well, you and your nephew have had your fabulous last meal, and now comes the ever-encroaching time for your inevitable demise. How sad, really, I was beginning to grow a little fond of you," Fremantle said with thick sarcasm.  
  
"Well, you know, all good things have got to end sometime, don't they?" Jonathan replied, knowing that these thugs wouldn't succeed. No way, no how. Not with the Medjai hot on their tail.  
  
"You handle yourself with the knowledge of your utter demise with admiral courage!" Fremantle said. "I have to give you that much credit. I just didn't expect it out of you, knowing your background for scurrying off in the face of danger," he said mockingly.  
  
Jonathan was a little more than flustered at Fremantle's remark about his fear of dangerous situation. He had had more than his fair share throughout his life. Many of those times, he had faced the situation with the utmost bravery. Still he remembered what Quadir had told him, so he would continue to play along with Fremantle's little game of insults.  
  
"Everyone can change, you know. I've been through a lot in my lifetime, and I've learned not to cower in the face of adversity, no matter how bad the situation. I've been through more pain and much worse things than facing you, I'll have you know!" Jonathan threw back an equal barb. "You are mild compared to some I have faced!"  
  
Fremantle, severely insulted, and without warning, hit Jonathan hard in the jaw. Jonathan's head snapped hard to the left in response.  
  
Jonathan started wondering if he was playing the role a little too good.  
  
"How dare you speak to me in that manner!" yelled Fremantle. "I am well capable of executing you with such precision, you wouldn't even know it happened. But nevertheless, I have a bargain to uphold, and my Egyptian co- conspirator in crime is not very forgiving of mismanagement of his plans. Therefore, I shall make sure that you live to meet him."  
  
Fremantle began to circle Jonathan's chair, deep in thought of what would transpire. Smiling at a thought, he stopped in front of Jonathan.  
  
"You haven't even begun to know what pain is, until we reach the caverns. Then Zouhir will teach you ALL about pain. He will exact his revenge very, very slowly. Zouhir will make your Medjai friend watch, as each and every person, family or friend, is slowly tortured to death. My friend, YOU will then know what true terror is all about. The only thing is, there will be no way for you to escape it. I have witnessed my comrade's methods of torture. Some men have died from the sheer fright of witnessing his brutality; before it was even their turn to experience it."  
  
Jonathan just stared at Fremantle, defiantly. Deep down inside, he was scare out of his wits. But he did not want this uppity Englishman to think that he could get the upper hand on his fear.  
  
"But if it is pain that you seek, then I will gladly administer some," Fremantle snarled as he hit Jonathan in the face, once again.  
  
Fremantle smiled in Jonathan's face, noticing the blood trickling from the corner of his mouth. "Well, it looks like I drew first blood," Fremantle smirked.  
  
Jonathan tried to retreat as far back into the chair as possible. Now, wondering what they would do next to him, he steeled himself for more abuse and stared back at Fremantle, defiantly.  
  
"You know, things don't always go as intended. I hope that your plans are dashed quickly," Jonathan smiled back, despite the pain of his split lip.  
  
"Oh, I see, you think that the Medjai will help you. Well, let me assure you that they are quite busy in the desert, trying to help their fearless leader. We have had reports from our contacts in Cairo that no Medjai have been seen in the city at all. You see, we can elude any Medjai dog, as our network is a very vast one. We will be invisible to their ever-keen eyes, as we always have. And when we disembark, if any of them by chance lurks in the shadows, they will not even know of our presence.  
  
'Not so invisible as you think,' Jonathan thought to himself, but smiled at Fremantle with continued confidence.  
  
Growing tired of Jonathan's continued arrogance, Fremantle stared closely at him, eye to eye.  
  
"Zouhir is not as tender hearted as I am, he is brutal, and unfeeling. He takes great pleasure in issuing pain. I, well...I am in it mainly for the money, not the glory of the kill," Fremantle explained, mockingly. "However, it adds to the flavoring of things. But I will take great pleasure in watching YOU die," Fremantle said with absolute hate flickering in his eyes.  
  
Jonathan felt a lump rise in his throat, now hoping that the Medjai would definitely take a hold of this situation, before anymore were maimed or killed.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Iskandar had worked feverishly through the last two days, desperate to save this young warrior's life. He had done all he could; Bahir's wound was such a savage one. The dagger, upon entering his body, had slashed his liver deeply. Now, all they could do was wait.  
  
Bahir was delirious with the fever that enveloped his body. His face was shrouded with a great pallor that ensured death was imminent. His body was so weakened from the severe blood loss; he was barely able to emit a moan as Iskandar checked his wound.  
  
Still, Bahir gained consciousness long enough to murmur a name, "Hadiya."  
  
Iskandar listened intently to Bahir as he had struggled to whisper the name. He bowed his head, knowing that this was Bahir's wife he breathlessly spoke of. One of the warriors had told him about her, and that she was with child. He did not need to know her name, the look in Bahir's eyes told him it was she whose name he whispered.  
  
Bahir settled back into semi consciousness, where dreams of happier days permeated through his mind. The events unfolded like a waterfall cascading down a mountainside. Many, many happy times. He saw his lovely wife, whose name meant, 'gift', and she was that to him and much, much more. His mind wandered back to the day of their joining as husband and wife. That had been the most joyous moment in his life by far. Now, he could see his beautiful wife, carrying their child. Bahir had looked forward to the day of their child's arrival. Now, it seemed all too certain that he would be denied seeing his infant's face. All for the sake of duty and honor; his life was coming to an end, but at what price?  
  
Bahir came to terms with his death; he had no choice. He had known death personally for many years; a force of nature as immutable as the stars themselves. The bitter irony was that as his life was ending, his child's life was beginning. Now, knowing that he wouldn't see his child, made him think of Ardeth, and the emotional torment he was suffering. He understood the pain he was feeling.  
  
His feverish brain's attention turned to his friend, Ardeth. His fervent prayer was that his friend would make it through all of this, physically unscathed. Ardeth and Shariyf had been his only brothers throughout his entire life. Ardeth had been the life source of the three, the bold one, the one who showed no fear in any situation. Yes, Bahir knew that Ardeth, as all men, had felt fear, but Ardeth was courageous. Courage is facing your fears and triumphing over them. Ardeth's courage was infectious, and had brought his warriors through many fierce confrontations. Shariyf.yes, Shariyf had been the binding tie of the trio. Bahir reflected on Shariyf's character. He was the most complicated man he had ever known. Since he had been a child, he would speak his mind one moment, and be very compassionate the next. Shariyf was the one who was unafraid to show his emotions; the one who would encourage you and uplift you when you were in the depths of despair. Shariyf was the only one who could blatantly berate Ardeth when he was wrong, and get away with it. He was the one who could bring Ardeth through the most unimaginable situations. He had done it many times, that is why Bahir had trusted Shariyf implicitly with Ardeth's welfare. Bahir, on the other hand, had been the balance between the other two. He was the one with the logical mind, the quiet one, ever steadfast in temperament. Ardeth had described Bahir on several occasions as, 'solid as a rock.'  
  
He thought of Abdul-Khaaliq. How he, Ardeth, and Shariyf had tried many times to welcome him into their inner circle. But the pain of his shame was so great that he would shy away. Bahir knew of no other warrior outside their circle more trustworthy than Abdul. Ardeth had professed that special trust by designating Abdul as one of his chosen warriors. Most of the warriors had a special bond between themselves, as all of them fought for a common goal and had been through many trials and tribulations together. Above all, he wanted them to triumph over their enemy. He hoped that he would live long enough to find out.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Slowly but surely, the large cruise boat came into the port. Now the Medjai were ready to bring all this madness to a close. They stayed at their designated areas and waited. The passengers finally began to walk down the ramp. The Medjai's ever watchful eyes were intent on each passenger that came down, as they looked for any familiar face. The Medjai knew what Jonathan Carnahan and Alex O'Connell looked like, but they could not find them. Of all the many foreigners they could see; Carnahan and young Alex were nowhere to be found.  
  
Quadamah was becoming very distressed. They had to find them! Quadamah now knew that there was a change in the enemy's plans. He started to walk towards Uzmir when Tyreek and Wadid joined him, and they continued to walk towards Uzmir together.  
  
"We have spotted our London brothers," Tyreek said. "They are following a small group of men. There are at least ten of them. They are all dressed as peasants. One of them appears to be a young child."  
  
"I see them! Pass the word. Be ready to attack as soon as they reach the grain warehouse," Quadamah said. 


	10. Endless love chapter 10

My thanks to Karri, Catherine, Angela, Deana, Montana, J-James, Tasha, Ariane, and Eva who so graciously give the time to review, whether it be via email or the review location. I appreciate it very, very much! I hope I didn't leave anyone out...if I did, please do forgive me...  
  
To Catherine: Yes, I agree with you, Abdul is a very interesting character, and he gets more as time goes along...It is strange, how we make up our own characters, and intend them not to be as large as the original script characters, but in essense, they turn out to play a major role in the lives of those original ones. He has turned out to be very interesting to me as well...I like him alot...and wait till you see what's in store for him! Also, Shariyf and Bahir are interesting to me, as well...if I must say so myself...I like those three guys! And that was rather interesting, with chapter 10, the other day when I posted, it was in the rough...lol...not intending it to be there...when you read it...but thanks anyways...there are minute changes here and there...but it has changed a little...so its back up...Also, thanks for all the great reviews you leave...I appreciate it very, very much...and I'm so sorry that you won't be doing any more Demitica's...and well, I hope you do come up with some other mummy stories...but I'll read whatever you write...just let me know when and where...I love your stories!  
  
  
  
ENDLESS LOVE CHAPTER 10  
  
TOGETHER WE STAND  
  
The group just stood there for a few minutes, not knowing what to do. Ardeth had been through so much suffering, there was not much anyone could do or say to ease his pain.  
  
Rick walked slowly up to Ardeth. He knew what the pain of the loss of a wife was; he had experienced it at Ahm Shere the year before when Evy had died before his eyes, as well as the fact that Alex had been in danger of death as well. The only blessing was that Evy had been given back to him. Such a great gift! But he knew that it wasn't so for his friend; his brother. Oh, how he regretted that he could not save Ardeth's family!  
  
Evy also started to walk towards Ardeth, pain weighing so heavily in her heart. Not only were her son and Jonathan in imminent danger, but the loss of Bahiyaa, Ablaa and Alia was too much for her to bear. Bahiyaa had become like a sister to Evy. She could not have loved Ardeth and his family more if they were her very own blood. Her heart ached from the terrible loss.  
  
Rick put a hand on her shoulder, stopping her. He needed to talk to Ardeth first. He knew he had to.  
  
Ardeth had trouble looking directly at them. He tried to hide his pain before talking to them, but it was so difficult. Looking down, he gave a weak smile as Rick approached him.  
  
"My friend, I am so relieved to know that you have arrived unharmed," Ardeth said, trying to make his voice sound normal. "I'm so sorry that you and your family have been involved in this. Shariyf and myself were on our way to rendezvous with you and my warriors. Our brothers in Cairo are working with some of my men to get Alex and Jonathan to safety. Be confident in that fact, they will not let the enemy take them anywhere," he assured Rick.  
  
Quickly, he turned and began to walk away.  
  
Rick rapidly took several steps and gently grabbed Ardeth's arm.  
  
Ardeth stopped, closing his eyes. He was so weary of people trying to comfort him. It weakened his ability to keep his emotions in check. He sighed and lowered his head as Rick attempted to turn Ardeth around.  
  
"Ardeth, I don't know how to..." Rick broke off, not knowing what to say next.  
  
Ardeth slowly turned to face Rick. He could not speak. He didn't have to, for his eyes told the horrible tale of the greatest loss a man could ever experience.  
  
It was as if Rick could actually see the horrific vision that was still emblazoned in Ardeth's eyes. He nearly could see Ardeth's wife and children, tortured and mutilated. He could only imagine that what he envisioned was small compared to the magnitude of the true horror that Ardeth had witnessed.  
  
Rick couldn't bear seeing the anguish in Ardeth's eyes. His eyes began to water uncontrollably.  
  
Ardeth began to turn away, but Rick grabbed him by the shoulders and pulled him into an embrace. Ardeth tried to back away, but Rick wouldn't let him, it made him hold Ardeth even tighter. Ardeth, from sheer exhaustion, could not resist Rick's persistence, and finally couldn't fight his emotions anymore. He and Rick had been through so much together through the years, and Rick was always there for him, through thick and thin. The bond between the two was that of utmost trust, a trust that had proven itself, time and time again. It was a rare and true bond, whose mettle had been tested by the endurance of time.  
  
Ardeth couldn't hold back the flood that he had fought so many times the last few days. Finally, the real tears came, and he began to cry uncontrollably in his friend's arms.  
  
This made Rick lose control as well, and he cried with Ardeth, unashamedly.  
  
Ardeth, being a typical man, feared that crying in the presence of his friend would be a sign of weakness on his part. Trying desperately to gain a small measure of composure, he wiped the tears from his eyes and began to pull away from Rick's embrace.  
  
"Forgive me, my friend," Ardeth said, rather embarrassed at his weakness. "I should have better control on my emotions."  
  
Rick, seeing that Ardeth was having a hard time with the shame, combined with the immense pain that reflected in his dark amber eyes, placed his hands on Ardeth's shoulders and looked at him intently, tears still flowing down Rick's cheeks.  
  
"Ardeth, my dear friend, I may have a flippant attitude most of the time, but I learned more about emotions last year at Ahm Shere, than I learned in my entire life. There, in front of the pyramid, I watched Evy die in my arms. I didn't know that she would be given back to me. The pain I felt was more than I ever experienced in my entire lifetime. I know what you are feeling to some degree. I know that Evy was given back to me and my son was delivered back to me safe. If it hadn't been for you, I would never have found my son."  
  
Rick had to stop talking. It was so hard reliving his painful experience, but he would do anything to help his friend in his great anguish. Ardeth had been there for Rick, time and time again. His family had remained intact mostly because of Ardeth. Rick was ever grateful for that fact. Trying to find the words to express his remorse at the loss of Ardeth's wife and children, Rick finally got his thoughts to form into the right words.  
  
"I just wish that I could have done the same for you and saved Bahiyaa and your little girls. Right now, I am dealing with that guilt. It is hard, very hard to handle."  
  
Again, Rick had to pause, dealing with his own guilty feelings of being helpless when Ardeth needed him the most.  
  
Ardeth was about to interrupt. Rick knew what he was thinking, that it wasn't Rick's fault nor could he have done anything to stop it. Rick raised his hand to silence Ardeth; indicating that he wasn't finished with what he had to say.  
  
"But I have to gain a small measure of satisfaction that I am here for you now," he continued. "There is no shame in the hurt you can't hide. Ardeth, there is no need to try to hide your pain, especially not from Evy and me. You, Evy, and myself, well, we've been through so much together."  
  
Ardeth nodded quietly, trying to control the gasping reflex that normally comes with intense crying.  
  
Rick was about to lose even more control of his own emotions, the tears beginning to flow faster and his voice cracking; at the thoughts that still had a tendency to rend his heart into shreds.  
  
"When Evy died in my arms, I couldn't stop crying. I had never felt pain like that, ever. I've seen many people die. I had never been close to anyone before fate brought us all together at Hamunaptra. Yeah, I know, it sounds weird, but that's what I think happened."  
  
Ardeth nodded again, knowing full well what Rick meant.  
  
Rick paused to grab his handkerchief to wipe his eyes and blow his runny nose. He continued to speak his thoughts.  
  
"I never ever felt remorse, or feared for anyone before that time. But I knew that I had to seek retribution and take Imhotep down and whoever else was involved. That was all I could think of. Ardeth, I will stand with you against our enemy. Yes, our enemy. Even if the bad guys weren't after my family, they would still be my enemy because they are out to hurt you. Anyone who is your enemy is my enemy, remember that. You are more than just my best friend, you are my brother."  
  
With this said, Ardeth was so emotionally moved, it was his turn to embrace Rick. Looking into Rick's eyes with a little less shame evident; Ardeth came to terms with his emotions. He struggled to find the right words.  
  
"Thank you, my friend," he said. "Thank you for not judging my weakness. After my brother died, the only brothers I had were Bahir and Shariyf. I know that they are not my brothers in blood, but they have always been my brothers in heart. That is how I feel about you."  
  
Ardeth paused, trying to clear his throat so his voice would stop cracking.  
  
"But do not blame yourself for not being there to save my wife and children. You didn't know it had happened. I have blamed myself for not being there. If I had been there, they might have lived. But how could I save them when I was on guard duty? We all have questions and no comforting answers for them," he sighed. "I guess we just have to come to terms with them."  
  
Evy, watching the two, ran towards them and put her arms around both men; the one she loved as a husband, and the other she loved as a brother. Ardeth reached around Evy's shoulders and held her in a tight embrace. She was crying so hysterically, Rick and Ardeth had a hard time trying to console her.  
  
"Ardeth, I'm so very sorry," Evy cried. "I don't even know what to say, it hurts so badly."  
  
Ardeth smiled gently through his own tears and hugged Evy close. Kissing her cheek, he pulled back slightly to look into her eyes.  
  
"Evy, thank you. Bahiyaa loved you very much," Ardeth choked the words out.  
  
"Oh Ardeth, I feel so horribly about Bahir," she said. "We don't even know if he lived. He sacrificed his life to save mine! I'm so very sorry! I know how close he was to you. Rick and I had become close to him through the years, as you know. He was always so kind to me. I just can't handle that he would do this, with having a wife to leave behind," Evy said, her heart aching with so much agony, she gasped out the words.  
  
Ardeth bowed his head, hearing the words Evy spoke. It couldn't have hurt him more if someone had slashed his heart open. "Not only a wife, but an unborn child as well," he told her, with sorrow in his voice. "Bahir has always been a man of honor, and protecting you with his life would be typical of his character. He would not be able to live with the knowledge of you dying and his having been able to trade places with you. It is the life that we live, Evy, the way we were brought up; to protect the innocent, women and children, not only the accursed places we protect. It was Bahir's honor to do this for you. I cannot say that I am happy that he is dead or dying, but I am happy that if he did die, or does, it is with the honor that he truly deserves."  
  
Evy's eyes opened wide in horror, now realizing that Bahir would be leaving behind not only his wife, but also the child he would never see. She began to cry harder, realizing just how much Bahir's sacrifice had cost him and his family.  
  
Together, the three mourned. And together as one, they prayed for the safe return of Alex and Jonathan and for Bahir, that God would grant him healing, for the sacrifice he had so selflessly made.  
  
Abdul watched from a distance, feeling the pain and the ultimate anger culminating inside of him. He made a silent vow that he would make a stand against Zouhir, side by side, with Ardeth. He could not accept any other terms.  
  
Ardeth, Rick and Evy finally began to walk towards the rest of the group, where the women and children were being helped by the other warriors. Many of the women and children had severe blisters on their feet, as they had been made to walk on the hot sand for so long. The warriors were tending to them as best as they could, while feeling the same anger that Ardeth and Shariyf had felt.  
  
Evy and Rick weren't aware of the fact that in the midst of Ardeth's and Shariyf's journey to rendezvous with them, they had come across this group of people. Ardeth explained the events that had unfolded. Evy began to cry again, at the viciousness of these animals. Yes, that is all Evy could think of, to refer to them. There was no other word to describe these men. Evy hurriedly went over and helped the warriors tend to the poor souls.  
  
Evy was shocked when she saw Shatarra, Ardeth's mother. Oh, what else would these animals do? she thought. What a horrid shame. She tenderly ministered to the elderly woman that she had grown to love as a mother. Shatarra was in very bad shape. Her condition had not improved much since they arrived at the oasis. Evy and another young woman, whose name was Hayat, worked continuously to try and help Ardeth's mother. Evy couldn't contain her tears as Hayat showed her the whip marks on Shatarra's back. What barbaric animals they were! Evy cried as she heard the painful moans emitted from Shatarra as she gently helped Hayat clean Shatarra's wounds.  
  
Ardeth and Rick stood by the group of women. Rick turned his eyes to look at Ardeth. He couldn't believe what he was seeing. Those men had abducted Shatarra!  
  
Rick bent down and looked at Shatarra and bowed his head in sorrow, seeing that she was very, very ill from the torment that she had endured. Rick gently caressed her cheek. The light touch stirred Shatarra enough to encourage her to open her eyes. She had trouble focusing her eyes, but Shatarra, through her delirium, did manage to recognize Rick. She weakly smiled at him and her eyes still had that beautiful sparkle of love that always draw people to instantly like her. Rick bent over farther and lovingly kissed her cheek. Never knowing his parents, he agreed with Evy; Shatarra was a mother to them both. Rick was so upset with her condition he gently moved the few strands of hair that were clinging to her moist skin. Giving her a smile, Rick got up and walked away so that he could come to grips with his feelings on this situation. How many women and children suffered needlessly because of this maniacal group of animals? He shook his head, deep in thought, when Ardeth walked up to him. Rick was so upset, that he didn't even hear him approach.  
  
"Rick, I think we need to gather together and make a plan of action before we leave," Ardeth said. "I will get Abdul and Shariyf to join us in planning out our strategy."  
  
"Umm, Ardeth, I think that you really need to go and talk to Abdul," said Rick. "He's really down, you know? He's riddled with guilt because of his relation to Zouhir. I am really worried about him. You think before we all have our pow wow, that you can give him a little pep talk?" Rick asked reluctantly, wondering how Ardeth really felt about the whole situation.  
  
Ardeth scanned the area and located Abdul. He was off by himself, away from even the warriors that had arrived with him, Rick and Evy.  
  
The men had built a fire, and two warriors had prepared food. It was already finished cooking, and the two warriors were distributing a meager, but greatly appreciated meal to the women and children first, then were giving out what was left to the rest of the men. Ardeth politely refused the food and told one of the warriors to give it to the women as an extra ration to share as best as they could. Rick followed suit. When one of the warriors tried to hand Abdul a plate, he politely refused as well, and turned away, walking deeper into the foliage of the oasis.  
  
Ardeth looked at Rick and gave him a nod, before following the path the Abdul had taken. He was very worried about him, and his state of mind. Ardeth knew that Abdul was carrying such an incredible burden, and he hoped that he could encourage him and make him realize that he had no reason to feel this shame, as he was not responsible for his father's irrational acts of barbarism.  
  
Ardeth thought he would never catch up to Abdul. "He must be running," he thought, still trying to locate his friend.  
  
The oasis, even though it was rather small compared to some of the others deeper in the Sahara, was still rather large, and rich with very thick foliage. Ardeth looked around and marveled at the beauty of it all. Getting his thoughts back to Abdul, Ardeth continued his search.  
  
There was another pond a good distance from the one that they were camped by. Ardeth looked around at the area surrounding the pond. There, high up on a rather large boulder, overlooking the water, sat Abdul.  
  
Ardeth wondered what words of wisdom could help Abdul. He wanted to help him desperately. Ardeth had always cared very much for Abdul, despite Abdul's penchant for shying away from Bahir, Ardeth, and Shariyf's attempts to welcome him into their inner circle. Silently, Ardeth offered up a prayer to Allah to help Abdul with his inner suffering.  
  
Ardeth began his ascent up the large boulder. It was a very difficult climb. Ardeth, still rather exhausted from lack of sleep and his lost appetite as well as the exhausting journey itself, had a really tough time climbing it. It was jagged in some areas, so Ardeth carefully avoided those spots, knowing that he didn't need any unnecessary injuries. He was sure he would be receiving enough of those very soon. Finally, Ardeth reached the top, and he carefully approached Abdul.  
  
Sitting down next to him, Ardeth looked over the pond, marveling at its crystal clear water. Abdul continued to look ahead at nothing in particular, anything but Ardeth.  
  
Ardeth cleared his throat, trying to think of what to say. "Abdul, please look at me," he earnestly implored.  
  
Abdul shifted his eyes, but still didn't look at him looking instead down into the clear blue water.  
  
Ardeth waited a couple of minutes in silence. He knew that Abdul was in so much pain and that he blamed himself for his father's actions. He knew that he was going to have a very hard time trying to get through to Abdul. But Ardeth vowed to himself that he would not leave until Abdul heard what he had to say.  
  
Suddenly Abdul lifted his eyes skyward. His profile was that of a man who looked like the weight of the entire world was on his shoulders, a man who desperately was trying to hold onto that burden and trying to find a way to rectify the situation.  
  
"Abdul, I'm asking you once again, please, my friend, look at me," Ardeth said, emphatically.  
  
Abdul sighed heavily, knowing that he did not wish to be disrespectful to Ardeth. After all, Ardeth was his King, as well as a friend. Abdul had a very deep regard for Ardeth, even though he would shy away from the three men who had so often welcomed him and encouraged him to join them for meals or just a chance to sit down and engage in small talk. Abdul had very seldom even sat for a meal with them, even on guard duty at Hamunaptra. Most of the time, he would just sit off to the side and avoid any type of interaction with the rest of the warriors. But the few times that he had sat with Ardeth, Bahir and Shariyf, he wanted so much to accept their kind offer. He knew that the three of them, as well as the other warriors, didn't hold him responsible for Zouhir's elusive acts of violence through the years. But Abdul knew, deep in his heart, that HE was the one with the problem, not the others.  
  
Ever so slowly, his eyes met Ardeth's ever-beckoning ones.  
  
Ardeth smiled at him, glad that Abdul was starting to respond a little. It was better than nothing. He understood his deep feeling of despair all too well. "Abdul, please tell me what you are feeling," Ardeth asked.  
  
Abdul's response was a small laugh. "Ardeth, you want to know what I feel? I feel so horrible right now; I wish that I would die. How would you even expect me to feel? I hurt for you. I hurt for Bahiyaa, Ablaa, and Alia. I hurt for Shatarra. I hurt for Bahir. I hurt for Akhtar, Akilah, Noorah and Shakar. Shall I continue, Ardeth? I have seen your family and friends suffer from Zouhir's hateful revenge. Zouhir, my father," Abdul spat the name and reference out as if it were the vilest words he had ever uttered.  
  
"Maybe, just maybe, if I had gone with him when he left, I might have been able to change him," Abdul continued. "At least I'd be able to say that I did my best to change him. But I have done nothing but watch his vengeance rain down upon your loved ones. I am sickened by his acts of barbarism, it shames me to know that I am his son," Abdul said, shaking his head in disgust.  
  
"Abdul," said Ardeth, with a sigh. "Let me see if I can explain my thoughts on the matter of your being his son. There is no way ever that I, nor anyone else, have ever thought it to be your fault for his ways. How can a man be responsible for the action of another? I know that as the leader of the Medjai, I am responsible for the actions of my people. As well, you know, as a Chosen warrior, you have the responsibility of the actions of the men under your command. That is a different scenario than the one that involves your connection to Zouhir. As far as I'm concerned, you are not his son. You are of a higher standard than Zouhir could ever attain. You are better than him, my friend."  
  
Ardeth paused, trying to think of what to say next, hoping he was making some sense to Abdul.  
  
"I have, and always will have the utmost respect and trust in you," he continued. "That is why I elected to make you a Chosen warrior. You are trustworthy and true to our duty and above all you are honorable. Abdul, you are one of the most honorable men I have ever known. I would have never chosen you to be a commanding warrior if I had not thought that. You are of the highest standard of character."  
  
Ardeth stopped again, reaching over, and placing an assuring hand on Abdul's shoulder. "And above all, Abdul, I am your friend, I always have been and always will be. Do not blame yourself for the murders of my wife and children, nor my father, brother and sisters. Do not blame yourself for Bahir's mortal wounds. Please, my friend, stop burdening yourself with such a weight of blame, and understand that there is no need to do this. Above all, I need you, I need you more than you realize. I trust you and I need you to help me."  
  
Abdul stared at Ardeth the whole time he gave his rather long speech of undying trust and concern for his welfare. He averted his eyes, once again, trying to hold back tears of anger and relief, both emotions fighting for release at the same time.  
  
Abdul wanted so very much to know what relief really felt like. Relief from the hurt and shame he carried all these years. No one had ever blamed him! No one, throughout his entire life, had even hinted that he was at fault. No one outside of his own family, that is. Often, he contemplated that fateful day that had turned his life into the hellish nightmare that he had lived in ever since. He and his mother had been taken care of by his grandfather, Hydar. His mother, Ishana, was now an elderly woman who had so much suppressed hate inside her.  
  
When Zouhir had been banished, she had been glad to see him leave. But because Abdul resembled Zouhir, she began to resent him after Zouhir had left them and set up his own tent. Before that time, she had always been an attentive and loving mother. From that day; the day of Zouhir's banishment, she didn't want anything to do with Abdul at all.  
  
His mother had grown to despise Zouhir long before his acts of barbarism warranted his banishment. Zouhir had abandoned her and their son. But because Abdul was a mirror image of his father, it only reminded her of the man who had turned his back on them. She just didn't realize that through her resentment and hatred of her husband, she turned her back on her own son, because of his remarkable resemblance. Abdul's grandfather, on the other hand, gave him unconditional love. His grandfather was a wise and loving man and it showed through his actions.  
  
Abdul, still very silent and staring out into an endless void, reflected back on the years behind him. Ardeth, knowing that Abdul was deep in thought, continued to sit in silence, staring off in the distance, giving Abdul his much needed private moment.  
  
Abdul remembered back to a time when Yushua had come to Hydar's tent. Hydar was attending to the many duties that an Honored Second has to perform. As Yushua waited for his friend to come back, he witnessed, firsthand, the negligent treatment Ishana gave to Abdul. It hurt Yushua deeply to witness this. At the time, Abdul had just turned six years old. His mother was preparing a meal, and knew that Hydar was going to be a little late, so she prepared a plate for Yushua and herself. She made no effort to feed Abdul, he had to go and get it himself. To Yushua, it had looked like she didn't even acknowledge his presence. The expression on Yushua's face was one that would forever be imprinted in Abdul's young mind. That was the first day that Yushua had ever shown disrespect to anyone in the tribe. He'd stood, giving Ishana a very stern, disapproving look, and walked straight out of the tent, leaving the plate that she had prepared for him untouched. Today, that image of Yushua's reaction was still as fresh as when he had first witnessed it.  
  
After that day, Yushua made a special effort to spend as much time as possible with Abdul. It was because of his grandfather and Yushua Bey's encouragement and training that Abdul was the outstanding warrior and honorable man that he was today.  
  
Abdul came back from the depths of his misery and looked over at Ardeth, who'd been staring off into the distance. Abdul knew that he wanted to tell Ardeth so much. How much he appreciated Ardeth's constant vigilance in his efforts to show his trust and acceptance of Abdul. He knew that Ardeth had always strived to get close to him, and as a matter of fact, Abdul felt very close to Ardeth. But accepting that closeness was very hard to reveal; each time he tried, he failed. The memories of his past were always too strong for him to overcome.  
  
Dreading even bringing anything up, Abdul struggled for the words. For the first time in the last twenty-nine years, Abdul spoke of his feelings.  
  
"Ardeth, do you know what it is like to be shunned?" Abdul asked.  
  
Ardeth came around from his own thoughts. "What?" he asked.  
  
"I asked if you knew what it was like to be shunned?" Abdul repeated.  
  
"No, I don't," Ardeth answered. "But neither do you. No one has ever tried to shun you or blame you for anything that Zouhir did."  
  
"Zouhir ruined my life," Abdul said. "He took everything away from me! My rights as a member of this tribe, the right to have a life."  
  
"Abdul, my friend, that has only been your interpretation on the situation," Ardeth said. "No one has ever said it was your fault!" Ardeth tried to explain his point.  
  
"Really, Ardeth?" Abdul said, laughing mirthlessly. "Is that what you have thought all these years? Well, that is not so."  
  
Ardeth looked at Abdul in surprise. He didn't understand what Abdul was getting at but Ardeth was surely going to get to the bottom of this. He hadn't been aware of anything going on of this sort in the tribe, and he was going to put a stop to it!  
  
"Who, Abdul? Who are you talking about? I want to know! I demand to know! Who would dare do this!?" Ardeth sputtered out, very angry at this revelation.  
  
"It is of no consequence, Ardeth," Abdul replied. "I really shouldn't have even mentioned it. It is not important, the most important thing right now is to take down Zouhir and his criminal connections."  
  
"Wait Abdul, you say it is of no consequence?" queried Ardeth. "It is to me, as well as to many of us. Your suffering as well as your triumphs are shared by more than you know. All these years, my sincere hope has been that you would realize that you have always been a part of us."  
  
Ardeth began to rethink his approach. He had to get to the core of Abdul's pain, even if he had to make him relive it.  
  
"Abdul, please tell me, my friend, who is treating you in this manner? Just as I know you wouldn't let me down, you should know by now that I wouldn't let you down. I need your help, but I can't get that help unless I help you first. Please tell me who," Ardeth said, emphatically.  
  
"Ardeth, it is an old story. As I said, of no consequence. I have come to terms with it a long time ago. You were just a baby when all this transpired. I do not wish to, as the American would say, 'dig up old bones'. What good would that accomplish?" Abdul said, trying to avoid the situation.  
  
"What good would that accomplish, Abdul?" Ardeth answered Abdul's question with a question. "I think that it would accomplish very much. I have watched you shy away from all of us throughout all these years. We have welcomed you with open arms, yet you walk away. I know what it will accomplish; healing. Healing for your heart and for your soul," Ardeth said, earnestly hoping to convince his friend.  
  
Abdul sighed, knowing that Ardeth would not let him get out of this. He had already been cornered by the O'Connell's, and had to bare part of his soul to them. Now Ardeth was trying to reopen the worst wounds of all. But he knew that Ardeth meant to help him, and he wanted so desperately to reach out to Ardeth for that very help.  
  
Abdul hesitated for a moment, knowing that Ardeth was giving him time to decide. He looked up into Ardeth's piercing eyes to see that he had the look of a man on the edge, his own raw pain mixed with a new pain; the need to know who was hurting Abdul. He appreciated Ardeth's great concern; he was a man of great principal and integrity.  
  
Silently, Abdul decided that now was the time to face his own demons, and confide in Ardeth, for the comfort and solace that he had denied himself for so many years.  
  
"Ardeth, you have always been good to me. You always welcomed me, and I know that I turned away from that welcome. But, I have had much to conquer within myself." He paused, with a sigh. "What I am about to tell you, I have never divulged to anyone. Not even my grandfather knew all of what happened in those early years preceding Zouhir's banishment."  
  
Ardeth listened intently, overjoyed that he'd finally gotten through to his friend, but also nervously wondering what he was about to hear.  
  
"A very long time ago, I learned how to face the fact that I wasn't wanted," Abdul started. "Even before Zouhir abandoned us, my mother always treated me as her greatest failure. She told me many times that it was my fault for Zouhir leaving. She didn't know that Zouhir had developed such bizarre habits." He sighed. "He had always been very hateful to me. From a very young age, I don't know, maybe as young as two, I received more beatings than you could imagine. All I could ever remember about him was his beatings and his berating words. Ishana blamed me because Zouhir left us, she said that if I had been a better son, Zouhir would've stayed."  
  
Abdul paused, gathering his thoughts, and his nerve to continue.  
  
"After Zouhir left our home and isolated himself from us and everyone else, my mother still blamed me. She would often remind me that if I hadn't been born, she would still have Zouhir with her." He paused, and looked at Ardeth. "The very day you were born was the day that Zouhir was banished. Even after all the physical evidence of Zouhir's twisted mind in his tent, my mother still blamed me. Ishana told me that I was the one who had driven him to that state of mind, because of my inefficiency as a son."  
  
Ardeth shook his head, too shocked to say anything.  
  
"Hydar had withdrawn into himself for a while," Abdul went on. "I can understand that, it was his son who had done all those hideous atrocities. He had to come to terms of the loss of his son and the crimes of his son as well. But even though Hydar had taken care of my mother and I, he wasn't aware for a long time that Ishana was neglecting me. When he found out, through your grandfather, he took me away from my mother and kept me with him."  
  
Ardeth sat there with a horrified look in his eyes. He didn't realize just how much Abdul had gone through in his life. Where Ardeth's young years had been filled with nurturing love, Abdul, on the other hand, had been subjected to the worst life imaginable for a young child to endure, filled with blame, abuse, and neglect.  
  
"Ardeth, do you remember anything about that time?" Abdul asked him, seeing Ardeth's expression.  
  
"I remember that you were living with your grandfather, that's all," Ardeth stuttered out a reply, too stunned to believe all this. "All I remember is your grandfather being a kind and just man. He was always good to all children."  
  
"Yes, he was," Abdul agreed. "A very good man indeed. He told me many times how much he loved me. I'm sure he did this so as to restore some measure of confidence and trust that had been stripped away from me from a very young age. Your grandfather, Yushua, also gave me special treatment. I am forever grateful for his kindness. He and my grandfather taught me everything that I know today."  
  
Ardeth felt a little better to hear that his grandfather had tried to help the young Abdul.  
  
"The day that your grandfather and mine died was the saddest day of my life," Abdul said, sorrowfully. "I have often wondered, even though there was no evidence, that Zouhir had a hand in it. After all, it was odd that both of them died on the same day, within the same hour."  
  
Ardeth looked at Abdul, quizzically, realizing what he meant. It was not unusual for warriors to die on the same day, nor even the same hour. But neither Hydar nor Yushua had engaged in battle on the day that they died.  
  
"To this day, my mother, even though I make sure she is well taken care of, does not recognize me as her son," Abdul told Ardeth. "She has so much bitterness in her. I have not spoken to her in twenty-nine years."  
  
Ardeth looked at him, realizing the true magnitude of Abdul's suffering. He shook his head in utter dismay. Ardeth had never experienced anything like this. Normally he could help any of his warriors that came to him with a problem, whether it be about disputes on duty related situations or personal ones. But this was way beyond his comprehension. No way had he ever heard of such a situation occurring within the tribe.  
  
Ardeth had been only one year old when Hydar had taken Abdul into his home. As Ardeth had grown to an age of remote understanding and remembrance, he had seen his own grandfather doting on Abdul as well as Hydar. Ardeth had never been jealous of it, he had always liked Abdul and thought of him as an older brother. But even though Abdul was always respectful, he stayed his distance, as if he was not good enough to be with Ardeth and his brothers. That had explained why Yushua had been so fond of Abdul. He was the one who had discovered the problem to begin with.  
  
Now, another curious factor had been placed into their already complicated situation. Did Zouhir kill Hydar and Yushua? Ardeth thought.  
  
"Abdul, I am so sorry for what you have gone through in your life," he said. "I know that there is no way to rectify this situation. We cannot go back to the past. If that were possible, I think we all would go back and change something. I think the most important thing is for you to reassure yourself that you are of a much better standard than Zouhir. As a matter of fact, you are of a better standard than most Medjai. I have always trusted you. You have been one of the best warriors I could have ever hoped for. That is why I placed you in the most trusted position that any warrior can attain; that of a Chosen Warrior. I had no reservations about entrusting you with that position and I still don't to this day. You have proved yourself many times deserving that title."  
  
"Ardeth, I failed you!" Abdul suddenly blurted. "It is simple as that! I was at the village when we were attacked. I tried to stop them, but I couldn't!" Abdul said berating himself for his inability to save Ardeth's family.  
  
"Abdul, our village is very large," Ardeth said, now understanding that there were two problems that were devouring Abdul's heart and soul, threatening now to destroy what little confidence he had in himself.  
  
"There was no way you could have known what would happen. Whenever we are attacked, as you know, everything gets chaotic. We have to be everywhere at the same time. Yes, we are to protect the women and children and elderly first and foremost. But there are so many, how could you be everywhere at once? No, my friend, you could not. Nor could I have. If I had been there, there is no guarantee that I could have prevented what happened to my family." He sighed, forcing back his emotions at thought of his family. "Abdul, I need you," he said, yet again. "I need you because I believe in you and I trust you. Yes, I believe in you. I always have and I always will. Do not think on this lightly. Do not berate yourself for things beyond your control. You have taught me a very valuable lesson. This is what I have been doing the entire time since the attack; I have blamed myself for my family dying, for not being there to help them. But if I had been there, there is no guarantee that I could have prevented it just as you couldn't have prevented it," Ardeth said, now, new light dawning on him.  
  
"Abdul, we are going to take Zouhir and his men down. We are going to do this not only for my benefit, but also for yours, my friend. You have suffered enough; the time of your suffering is over with. We will conquer them, and with their demise, so will your legacy of emotional torment come to a close. All that will be left will be to confront your mother."  
  
"Ardeth, what good will that do?" Abdul asked incredulously, knowing his mother's vehement feelings towards him.  
  
"I think the best recourse will be to let her know that you forgive her," Ardeth said, smiling. "Let her know that you forgive her, and let it go. Then it will all be up to her."  
  
Abdul, realizing what Ardeth meant, smiled a genuine smile for the first time he could remember. Ardeth had given him the ability to see the light in this situation. But most of all, Ardeth had given him hope for the future, within himself. Truly, Ardeth was a man of wisdom beyond his years.  
  
"Well, Abdul, we need to gather together and make a plan of action. When you are ready, please join us; I will need your opinion on it. We will be over by the other pond," Ardeth smiled back. The first genuine smile that had graced his features since these atrocities began several days before.  
  
Abdul reached out to him, as Ardeth was about to get up. Ardeth stopped and looked at Abdul's outstretched hand. He reached out and grasped it.  
  
"Thank you, Ardeth," Abdul said, voice thick with feeling. "It has been a long hard road. Thank you for not giving up on me," he said, eyes glistening.  
  
With a nod, Ardeth closed his eyes in acknowledgement. He stood up to leave and Abdul quickly followed. Now he was ready for all this to end. Together they walked toward the pond where the others rested and waited.  
  
While walking, Ardeth posed a question that had he had been pondering for quite some time.  
  
"Do you think it would be better if you weren't present directly, when we face-off with Zouhir?" Ardeth asked. "I mean, would you rather not be present to see him, considering the fact that he was your father?"  
  
"Ardeth, I wouldn't miss it for the world," Abdul replied, much to Ardeth's astonishment, at Abdul's reaction. Maybe he had gotten through to Abdul better than he had even thought.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Rick and Evy sat by the pond. All were resting, as the journey was going to be a long one and many were very ill. They needed the rest and the warriors were trying to figure out just how they were going to bring all these women and children with them. It would be unwise to leave them at the oasis until they got back from wherever they were headed.  
  
Rick had overheard the warriors speaking, but didn't understand much of it, so Evy had translated for the most part. Rick was in agreement with the warriors. It wouldn't be wise to bring all those women and children out into the blazing desert to their unknown destination.  
  
Evy got up, wanting to stretch her legs. She walked along the ponds edge, wanting to check on Shatarra. Evy hoped that if Shatarra's condition changed for the worse, Hayat would inform her. Evy had immediately taken to Hayat. She was a very young woman with a kind heart that was evident in everything that she did. Evy had been told of her little boy dying in the desert and her heart went out to her. Hayat, through her own personal suffering, had been very brave and put her own feelings aside to take care of others. Evy liked that quality in a person.  
  
Walking along the ponds edge, she saw a set of footprints. They meandered along the edge, then went towards the thick foliage. Evy wondered who had gone through that direction. Her curiosity got the best of her and she followed the prints. Shortly, she was hidden by the dense growth.  
  
Rick had fallen asleep. He awoke when he heard Ardeth and Abdul approaching. Shariyf had been with the other warriors, discussing their situation, and he joined Ardeth and Abdul.  
  
"Where is Evy?" Ardeth asked.  
  
Rick looked around, bleary eyed. He knew she was there when he fell asleep, but he couldn't see her anywhere. Fear began to rise in Rick's mind.  
  
Ardeth looked at Abdul, then Shariyf. They knew what he was saying without words even being spoken.  
  
Abdul, turning to the other warriors, gave orders to start a search.  
  
But he noticed something, something very strange. There were a few warriors missing. 


	11. Endless Love chapter 11

Thanks to you all for your great reviews! This is a short chapter, but will explain much. Credit goes to Ariane, for suggesting that I delve into Zouhir's criminal mind...and give everyone an idea of how his wheels really turn...Thanks Ariane!  
  
A SADISTIC MIND  
  
His nefarious mind was in full action, reveling in the torment he had administered thus far. How he looked forward to the future torment he would inflict upon Ardeth. His mind was rushing from thought to thought, planning various stages of the great plan. He would not stop until he was avenged for the wrongs done him. He had waited long, had been very patient in his revenge; taking out one by one, ever so slowly. Tormenting the Bey family was his chief aspiration in life. They were worthless, nothing more than vermin to be rid of. But oh, how wonderfully fulfilling it had been to watch each and every one of them slowly, yes, ever so slowly be removed from the overall picture. He hated the Medjai. And after Ardeth Bey was crushed under Zouhir's heel, the Medjai race of people would be his to conquer and command, and all the secrets hidden in the Caverns of Sorrow would be divulged. Any Medjai who rebelled against him would be eradicated from the face of the earth.  
  
His malicious mind reflected upon the days of his life as one of those so- called "warriors for God." He had only exercised his right, had done what the others had not the nerve to do; to take out the full pleasure of ridding themselves of the hated foreigners. Why not take trophies? He would never think of anything else, and he had been admonished and banished because of it.  
  
The Medjai are all business, no pleasure, he thought. In the true essence of a warrior, they were spineless. They didn't know the true pleasure of taking spoils from their conquered victims. Spineless and mindless, unquestioningly following the orders of a man who didn't have the strength or nerve to be a true warrior, one who didn't know the true measure of a warrior. Zouhir never did like Yushua. As a matter of fact, he never really liked his father, Hydar, as well. His father had too many of those weak values that crippled his ability to crush his victims. It was the same with Yushua. 'Mercy' should have been their middle name. Mercy had no part in Zouhir's life, it was a meaningless word, one that showed weakness. So many warriors had followed his father and Yushua's example, it was pathetic. They took too much pride in their honor. But they were missing the whole point; they should have taken pride in the lust of the kill.  
  
Now, waiting for Faid to deliver his prized prisoner was more than he could bear. He had waited so long for this moment; planned it, staged it, wanting it more than anything else in his life. Ardeth had evaded him for many years now; they had never met face to face. But Zouhir knew everything about Ardeth, from what his favorite food was, down to his boot size. All the elusive attacks carried out through all these years were just a precedent to the real attack now being set up. Zouhir had Ardeth's grandfather, father and brothers murdered. He had even murdered Ardeth's sisters, not wanting any Bey blood to flow in anyone's veins. Zouhir even had his father murdered. But out of the entire Bey line, the most formidable opponent he had discovered thus far was Ardeth Bey. Zouhir had found in Ardeth a combination of his father and grandfather. But more than that. He saw an intense fighting spirit; one that he wanted to crush. Yushua and Akhtar had been very strong opponents, but Ardeth Bey was beyond either of them. He had been Zouhir's greatest challenge. It was time for the grand finale. Now, he would make the last of the Bey leaders fall to his knees.  
  
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Zouhir was brought out of his deep thought. Faid had arrived; one of Zouhir's men had come to tell him as he walked aimlessly in the depths of a large cave. He loved this cave. It brought back fond memories of his ambush of one of his most hated enemies, Akhtar.  
  
"My Lord, Faid is asking if you are ready for his report?" the man said.  
  
"Send him in," barked Zouhir. He always hated being interrupted when he was having such pleasant thoughts.  
  
Faid entered, exuding an air of confidence. Although he had an arrogant disposition, he knew that Zouhir was even more so. He really did not like facing Zouhir, didn't like the idea that he didn't have his package to deliver. Ardeth had eluded him, once again. "Zouhir will undoubtedly be very happy about that," Faid thought sarcastically, knowing Zouhir's uncontrollable temper.  
  
Faid was ushered into the mouth of the large cave, and broke out in a profound sweat. Am I that afraid of Zouhir? Faid thought. Shaking off his trepidation, he continued deeper into the cave. In a short distance, he could see Zouhir pacing.  
  
"My Lord, we have..." Faid was cut off.  
  
"Have you brought my prize?" asked Zouhir, not looking at Faid.  
  
There was silence. A prolonged silence that threatened to deafen them in that large cave.  
  
Faid felt the fear rise in him, turning his back to Zouhir to hide it. He was fighting it desperately. Faid, above all, didn't want Zouhir to know that he was afraid of him. He was Zouhir's second in command, and Faid had taken great pride in that fact. Surely Zouhir wouldn't do anything to jeopardize his favored position. Faid looked down at the loose pebbles beneath his feet, shuffling them, in deep thought. He didn't really know how to tell Zouhir. Zouhir was such a volatile person. Faid continued his silence.  
  
Slowly, Faid turned around. To his surprise Zouhir was a only hairbreadth away from him. Zouhir had walked so quietly, Faid had not even realized he had moved.  
  
"Faid, I asked you a question. Did you bring my prize?" Zouhir sneered, menacingly.  
  
Faid stood tall, his mind a flurry of surreptitious thoughts of how he was going to evade Zouhir's wrath. He cleared his throat, hoping that Zouhir would exhibit a little understanding, considering the circumstances involved.  
  
"When we attacked the camp, Ardeth Bey was nowhere to be found. We were informed that he had left sometime earlier that day. He was headed to Cairo," Faid said with a lofty air of confidence.  
  
Zouhir circled Faid several times, contemplating Faid's failure. He needed Faid, there was no doubt about that fact. But in time, oh yes, in time, he would pay for this incompetence. Still, Zouhir was beyond angery. The rage flowed through him like the tributaries of the Nile.  
  
Without warning, Zouhir backhanded Faid, sprawling him onto the stones beneath. Faid looked up at him, not at all shocked. Zouhir was a man who had no patience for failure. He stared down at Faid, a condescending look upon his weathered face. Wiping the blood from his mouth, Faid stood, staring straight at Zouhir with a look of arrogant contempt. Zouhir was about to administer another blow when Faid abruptly stopped him by grabbing the assailing fist and holding it immobile.  
  
"Before you continue, I think it would be best to reconsider. There are other enlightening events unfolding that you are unaware of. If you had only let me finish, then you would have already been informed of a commendable turn of events," Faid said, now walking slightly away.  
  
Zouhir hesitated for a moment. He hated playing cat and mouse games, and he definitely disliked Faid's condescending tone. He wanted to know what this turn of events was all about and what benefit it would produce. Zouhir wanted Ardeth. He wanted him more than he ever wanted anyone. He wanted it so much, he could taste it. Anything that would maim Ardeth emotionally was crucial in his ever-sadistic mind to the overall plan of Ardeth's demise.  
  
Zouhir smiled, if you could call it a smile, and motioned Faid to follow him.  
  
They traveled a littler farther in the cave. Torches were in ancient, chiseled out receptacles in the wall. They were blazing brightly and the cave was greatly illuminated in this area. Zouhir walked over to a bench- like seating area, carved out of the cave's stone walls long ago, thousands of years ago. Faid stared in mock horror, amazed at what he saw. Zouhir reached down and picked up something. Something that was very familiar in shape and size. Zouhir caressed it lovingly, like an old friend. It was a skull. The skull was clean, and Zouhir kept looking at it. He smiled, and continued to caress it.  
  
"Do you know who this was?" asked Zouhir, wearing that infamous wicked grin of his.  
  
"I have no idea. Through the years, you have collected so many heads, how can you even tell?" asked Faid.  
  
"Why would it seem so difficult to remember who is who?" Zouhir replied. "I know who this skull belonged to. This skull is very special. It is not that difficult, when it is your life's pursuit. There are a few that I remember. Oh yes, my friend, yes," Zouhir replied, motioning to a small group of three skulls positioned together, in front of the large row. "I know who these three belong to." Motioning to the one in his hand, he said. "And of course, this one, my most prized one thus far." Waving his hand towards the long row, he looked up at Faid. "The others in my collection are here, but are of no consequence. I don't remember who they belonged to."  
  
"Well, I'm waiting, my Lord. Who holds such a prestigious, honored place?" Faid asked, very curious now.  
  
"It is the skull of Yushua Bey," responded Zouhir, his smile growing ever large.  
  
Faid, shocked, but intrigued at the same time, stepped a little closer to examine Zouhir's prized skull.  
  
"I see, and where is Akhtar's skull? Surely, his is one of the remaining three?" asked Faid.  
  
"Unfortunately, I missed out on that opportunity. Ardeth and the Medjai accompanying him found Akhtar and prevented me from finishing my final assault. I will retrieve it one day, in fact, very soon. But first, I wish to add another, more important skull to my collection," Zouhir said, with a smirk.  
  
Faid, now realizing who Zouhir meant, smiled, knowingly.  
  
"So, I see why you were so disappointed that I missed the opportunity to bring Ardeth to you," Faid said, looking directly in Zouhir's eyes. "Do not worry about that. You will get your prize of all prizes."  
  
"Do not be so sure of yourself. You must not underestimate Ardeth Bey. He is not like the others. He is much stronger, more cunning," Zouhir said, turning back to the bench to replace the skull.  
  
"I told you, we will get him. I have not told you all that is unfolding, right now, as we speak," replied Faid, confidently.  
  
Zouhir, spun around and administered a hard back-handed slap across Faid's face. "I TOLD YOU, DO NOT UNDERESTIMATE HIM!" Zouhir bellowed.  
  
Faid had stumbled backwards, nearly falling to the ground with the strength of Zouhir's sudden fit of anger. Faid, rather dazed from the hard backhand, narrowed his eyes to slits, ready to attack. He paused to rethink his plan of action, and the consequences it would produce. Wiping the trickle of blood that spilled from his lip, he looked vehemently at Zouhir.  
  
"I have not told you everything. May I speak?" Faid hissed.  
  
Turning to pick up another of his prized skulls, Zouhir answered. "By all mean, do continue. Let me know what wonderful scheme you have planned to cover your incompetence," Zouhir said, in a patronizing tone.  
  
Faid was ready to attack again, seething with rage. How dare this man, who had staged the whole thing, but sat back and watched while everyone else did the dirty work, talk to him in such a condescending manner!  
  
"The attack at Cairo went as planned," he said. "We infiltrated the tribe that was positioned around the city. The O'Connell's were allowed to escape. Some of our men left with the group of Medjai assisting their flight from the city. Since we found out that Bey had left the camp to journey to Cairo to assist his men and help the O'Connell's; orders were given to infiltrate as much as possible with the group in flight. They will have undoubtedly met up with Bey and the man that traveled with him. At the appropriate time, they have been ordered to kill the other Medjai that are with them. This way, they will only have Bey, O'Connell and his wife to control. It is as simple as that," Faid said, confidently. "So, you see, your special prize will be delivered into your hands after all."  
  
Zouhir looked at Faid incredulously. Faid still wasn't getting the whole picture, obviously.  
  
"It is as simple as that, hmmm?" Zouhir smirked, beginning to pace. "You still don't understand, after all I've told you about this man. There is nothing simple about him. When I told you not to underestimate him, I meant it. Too many times, I have seen him get out of situation after situation. Ardeth Bey is cunning, intelligent, and a formidable leader of his Medjai warriors. He is a man to fear, without a doubt. Ardeth Bey, the man, the warrior, fascinates me. I have waited a long time to have him in my grasp. I have waited patiently, watching him through the years. His triumphs and defeats, I know of them all. I know his mind, and how it works. Simple is not the word I would use for the capture of Ardeth Bey," Zouhir finished, walking towards the entrance of the cave. Zouhir stopped suddenly, turning to face Faid. "Be sure you do not fail me, in this so- called plan of yours. If you fail, you will join my collection as well." 


	12. Endless Love chapter 12

I know it's been a while, but here is chapter 12. Life has thrown some serious turns my way, and I am trying to muddle through them. Sorry for the delay. Thanks to all my wonderful readers and reviewers! Whether it be on the review spot or via email, I appreciate the reviews more than you know! But most of all, I appreciate you taking out the time from your busy schedules to read my story. Thanks to Catherine for your kind words of encouragement in this difficult time in my life. It touches my heart and appreciate it more than you can realize. My thanks to Ariane and Tasha, for your words of encouragement too. Thanks as always, to Dee, for all the moral support and for beta-ing for me, and to Karri, for the moral support and for being the one who gave me the tribe's name for the newest nemesis joining Zouhir in his relentless pursuit of Ardeth's destruction.....'The Songhoi'. Karri, thanks so much! You never cease to amaze me with your creative thinking!  
  
Happy reading!............Lula  
  
  
  
ENDLESS LOVE CHAPTER 12  
  
AN EYE FOR AN EYE  
  
Uzmir and Quadamah carefully watched as the group of peasants walked casually towards the grain warehouse. All strategy, carefully planned, had been carried out. The other warriors were at the various strategic locations so that, without fail, all of the enemy would be accounted for and taken down. One thing was for certain; the Medjai were hell-bent on eradicating this pestilence.  
  
Uzmir motioned ever so carefully with his eyes to Quadamah, so as to go undetected, that the man called 'Carnahan', had been spotted in the group of peasants. He was the only adult figure that seemed to be apprehensive of the situation. Quadamah, true to his anxious nature, took a step forward.  
  
Uzmir quickly grabbed a hold of Quadamah's ragged robes, prompting him to stop. He knew the feelings that Quadamah was experiencing; they all felt the same way. But the time was not yet. And to divulge their presence in any form or fashion would prove to be disastrous.  
  
"Just a little more time, Quadamah," Uzmir whispered casually, to his overzealous Second. "They will be right where we want them."  
  
"Yes, well, I believe they are changing their plans," Quadamah said, nodding slightly towards the group that had proceeded to turn in direction. "See, they are not headed towards the warehouse."  
  
"Yes, I see it. But I have a feeling they are testing us. Seeing if any of us are present here in force. We shall wait and watch closely to see what unfolds. Alert all others not to make so much as the slightest move towards the warehouse. It is time for patience, my friend. We shall let them take as long as they like. If they even so much as decide to leave the city, then we shall follow at a reasonable distance," Uzmir said. "But I do not think that this will be the case. Get word to all of our brothers throughout the city, to keep watch as to where their destination is, but do not make any move to take them, as not to alert the others of our presence. There are still those who have not left the grain warehouse. We cannot alert them in anyway. We must rely now on word from the others, and the London Medjai. Only a few of us will follow slowly, very slowly. Quadamah, be very careful in passing the word."  
  
Quadamah reached down and vigorously picked up a basket of grain. He made sure that he looked like some sort of Cairo street peddler. The owner of the baskets of grain glared at this faceless stranger, who so dared to try and steal his wares. The street merchant grabbed a hold of Quadamah's raised arm, swinging him around roughly. He quickly backed off; when the thief in question lowered his face covering and stared intently at the merchant. Quickly, the merchant raised his hands up, relinquishing any ownership of his basket of grain. He knew this young man's face; he knew that he was Medjai.  
  
The merchant had nothing but respect for the feared Medjai, as they had helped him against thievery and a close scrape with death. Knowing that the Medjai never did anything in question without a good reason, he quickly backed off. Nodding slightly at the man, Quadamah turned, desperately trying to hide a smile. Quadamah increased his pace, walking very close by the group that had veered off in direction. He was going to the area where Tyreek and Wadid were. This way, they could go in different directions and pass the word.  
  
Slowly, the lead group passed around a building, two up from where the grain house was. The London Medjai had dropped back, ever slightly. They were still in pursuit, but were muddling around. So as not to be conspicuous, they separated slightly and walked over to different merchant stands. Quadir walked a little farther down and stopped at another merchant stand. He immediately noticed that this street vendor was more then a little nervous. The man was looking towards the group of peasants that had just passed; he obviously must have been in liaison with the group. Oblivious to the fact that Quadir had approached, he was startled when he averted his eyes from the group and they fell upon a rather tall peasant, one whose eyes bore into his like an unquenchable flame.  
  
Immediately, the man became very, very frightened. He realized that this man he was staring at was indeed one of the feared Medjai. How he could tell; he did not know. For the man had no face markings, nor the three- pronged marks adorning the hands. Still he knew that this man was definitely Medjai. Fear rose in the man, threatening to overwhelm him and divulge his undercover pretext.  
  
Quadir continued to stare. His gut instinct had been correct, this man definitely was connected to this criminal network. Quadir found some unnatural pleasure in his well-planned intimidation of the man in front of him. He wanted, like all of the Medjai, the true Medjai, those whose loyalties lie with their king, to see these animals taken down for once and for all.  
  
Yazeed, another of the London Medjai, sauntered over to Quadir, intent on pretending to examine certain items displayed on the table. He immediately noticed that there was no haggling between Quadir and the man behind the table, which was a very common occurrence on the streets of Cairo. Looking up, he saw why. The two men's eyes were locked; one set showed intense trepidation, the other's eyes reflecting the contrary.  
  
The man behind the booth looked to the other man, hoping for a distraction. He found none, as when he looked over, the merchant froze in fear as Yazeed raised a knowing eyebrow and smirked. Yazeed took immense pleasure in the sight, and continued to stare, daring the man to try and run. The merchant was horrified, realizing now that he had no way of informing his associates that trouble was definitely on the horizon. He knew his life would be forfeit because of it.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Jonathan had tried his best to look around for the slightest hope of help. He knew that the Medjai were hot on their heels, but still, the sinking feeling wouldn't leave him. He hated getting in these types of situations, and they always seemed to follow him ever since they'd first found Hamunaptra.  
  
"And you thought you were always in trouble before," Jonathan said under his breath.  
  
Silently praying for an answer to come, Jonathan kept his pace. The first time that he had started to slow down, he found out the hard way not to, as the razor sharp point of an obscured knife was placed at his back, piercing his raggedy robes. At that very moment, Jonathan felt a trickle of blood slowly run down his back, his robes obscuring the blood from public view. That was a little too close a call for his liking.  
  
He kept his face forward, walking as close to Alex as possible. The others had tried to separate them, but Jonathan would not be put off. He stubbornly showed his insistence by floating closer and closer to Alex. Their captors, knowing that Carnahan was just showing his protectiveness of the child, relented. Even though they had a job to do, they could understand why the man was so insistent to be near the boy.  
  
Alex looked up at the concerned face of his uncle. On the outside, he was showing the utmost bravery in the face of adversity, but deep inside; Alex was frightened beyond all reason.  
  
"Uncle Jon," he whispered. "Do you think that we'll make it? I am so scared for Mum and Dad. I hope we all can make it through this."  
  
Jonathan stared at Alex while he spilled his worries. He knew that Alex was such a brave boy, but he'd experienced such horrid situations in his short life, and Jonathan was wondering how much more the little chap could take.  
  
"Of course we're going to make it, Alex," Jonathan smiled. Despite all the inner turmoil Jonathan had to face himself, he still tried to display a fair measure of encouragement. "You just wait and see," he whispered. "You know, the Medjai will not let us down. The good guys always win. And the Medjai are here. They always win. You just wait and see!" Jonathan whispered assurance.  
  
Alex smiled, wise beyond his years. He knew that his Uncle Jon was doing his best to put on his best face; to put him at ease. Alex just wished that his dad and Ardeth were here. He had seen them fight together as a team again many a foe, and they always bested the bad guys. He had absolute faith that if both Ardeth and his dad were around, then these warmongers wouldn't be so sure of themselves.  
  
It had been almost four months since Alex had last seen Ardeth and his family. He'd gotten so close to Ardeth through the years that he considered him to be a mentor figure; Ardeth had taught Alex many things on their frequent visits to the Medjai village. To Alex, Ardeth was not just their best friend, he was much more than that. Ardeth was his uncle, in his eyes. Ardeth and his family was part of Alex's family, and vice versa. Alex, although young, understood the old saying that blood is thicker than water, but then, he also had learned that love was much stronger than blood.  
  
It had hurt him so, when the wicked greasy man who'd been placed on guard inside his room had divulged the revelation of Bahiyaa, Ablaa and Alia's murders. The man had held back no details of their horrible torture and death, and then just sat there and laughed at Alex, when he was unable to contain the tears of sorrow. Alex had loved them so much. Now, they were gone forever, never to be seen on this earth again. Anger rose up in Alex like he had ever experienced before. He wanted nothing more than to be free of his bonds and attack the man and beat him with anything he could get his hands on. Alex was brokenhearted and a little more than disgusted and angered at this whole situation, and would make sure that he would have a part in the action to bring these bad guys to their knees.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Carefully, not to attract attention, the group casually rounded the corner.  
  
Noting the location they were at, Jonathan looked over at Alex. Apprehension was written all over the boy's face. He knew that it wouldn't be long now. Where were the Medjai? Surely, they would have seen some of those that were in Cairo. Many times he had seen these warriors. Now, when they needed them the most, where were they? Alex knew, as Jonathan had assured him on the boat when they were leaving, that the London Medjai were following them off the boat and were disguised. Alex knew that the Medjai wouldn't be enough to take out all these guys.  
  
Alex looked around, and began to panic. He didn't see any Medjai at all. Of course, they wouldn't be that visible. But Alex would like to have seen just one to be assured that more than the London Medjai were present. Alex looked up at Jonathan, who happened to look at Alex at the same instant. Jonathan winked at him, offering encouragement. Jonathan knew without a doubt they were there, but where?  
  
"Leave it in the competent Medjai hands, Jonathan," he silently reminded himself.  
  
Jonathan made the same bad mistake twice now; he absentmindedly slowed down. With a sharp reminder in his back, which again, drew blood, he quickened his pace once more. They were very near the back of the building now. Rounding the corner, they continued their trek. Jonathan realized now that they were indeed heading for the grain warehouse. He had heard talk about it on the way, but they had walked in a totally different direction. Now, Jonathan had put two and two together and realized that it was simply a detour, to shake any possible Medjai off. Jonathan had to laugh, he couldn't help but laugh. Jonathan knew that the Medjai were not ones to be easily put off. They were without a doubt preparing a big surprise for the hoodlum chaps that held them captive. Jonathan made sure that he didn't give the slightest clue that he knew what they were up to.  
  
They were nearly at the back of the warehouse now. Jonathan was filled with anticipation of what would transpire. He feared for Alex, and made sure that he was quite close to him as they approached the back. Suddenly, they stopped.  
  
Motioning for Carnahan and Alex to come to the front of the group, Fremantle gave some orders to the other men in their company. He warily looked down both ends of the back road, and then motioned the others to take the two inside the entrance.  
  
Inside, Jonathan wasn't prepared to see so many waiting, especially chaps of this sort. "These guys are huge!" thought Jonathan, rather wide-eyed. "Well, I say, they sure do save the best for last!"  
  
Before them stood a row of the tallest, most imposing warriors he had ever seen. He didn't know what tribe, or country, for that matter, they came from. But they were definitely the most formidable looking chaps he had ever seen. Thoughts of the biggest Medjai he knew didn't even come close to these menacing fellows.  
  
Alex, as well, was rather stricken by the appearance of these men. He began to tug on Jonathan's robe. "Uncle Jon, I'm scared!" he quietly hissed. "What are we going to do?"  
  
Jonathan shook his head at Alex, not even so much as taking his eyes off the men in front of them. He was just about to open his mouth to speak, but Fremantle walked in front of him. Standing in front of Jonathan, with his hands clasped behind his back, he began to rock on his heels.  
  
"Well, well, it's getting interesting now," Fremantle jabbed at Jonathan, his usual air of superiority lacing his voice. "Didn't expect them, did you? Well, I must say, I was surprised as well. These chaps over here always seem to amaze me with their imaginative resolutions to substantial situations. And, I do believe that the Medjai are a substantial problem. Even though it's apparent that they are all but gone to help their fearless leader, I'm sure that we will encounter them in the near future. I do believe that these formidable warriors will definitely give us an advantageous edge over the ever-fearsome Medjai."  
  
Jonathan glared at him, saying nothing.  
  
"Allow me to introduce these terrifying looking fellows," Fremantle said, with a smile. "These magnificent warriors are the Songhoi. A tribe whose history isn't quite as long as the illustrious Medjai, but is one of great victories and well known of their merciless treatment towards their enemies."  
  
Fremantle stopped, letting the information sink into Jonathan's weary brain. "I must say, I had received word that my ingenious cohorts were planning to parlay with the Songhoi, but I never once believed that Zouhir could actually win them over. But then again, on the long list of Medjai enemies, I do believe that they are right near the top of that extensive list. Besides, any enemy of the Medjai is a ally to Zouhir."  
  
Fremantle's derisive smile was directed solely at Jonathan. He wanted nothing more than to see Carnahan's sniveling, cowardly side surface. That would definitely give him great satisfaction. Fremantle had enjoyed ridiculing Carnahan on this journey, but then, Jonathan had surprised Fremantle more than once with his uncharacteristic show of bravery. This was not the general knowledge he had attained from various sources about Carnahan before leaving London. He had begun to wonder if his sources weren't reliable. Now, he wanted to see him beg for mercy in front of all present. How wonderful an addition the Songhoi were! What a magnificent surprise Zouhir had sent him. Fremantle made a mental note to thank Zouhir when they rendezvoused.  
  
"Mr. Carnahan, do you realize that the Medjai cannot win?" Fremantle continued in a profoundly deriding tone. "You believe that they will just come and rescue you and this young boy? I assure you, they are busy helping their beloved King. To those pathetically loyal warriors, you are no more than a useless bother. No, they will not rescue you. Assuredly, we will encounter them in the desert. Yes, they will give a fight, but do you think for one minute that the Medjai will be able to win over these formidable warriors? I think not. If what information I received is correct, there are at least two thousand of the Songhoi warriors waiting for this 'battle of all battles' to commence. They cannot wait to wager brutal warfare upon their most hated enemy. And, you will be there to watch it all unfold."  
  
Jonathan wasn't about to give even the slightest sign that he knew differently. The Medjai were there, waiting for the right moment to seize control. He and Alex just needed to hold on a little longer. Jonathan just laughed nervously, and smiled at the pompous idiot prancing around like an overconfident peacock.  
  
"Just let them think what they want to...don't slip up...don't give them a clue," Jonathan kept reminding himself.  
  
Fremantle wasn't lost on the look on Jonathan's face. Jonathan knew something. Fremantle was sure of it. Now, he had an even better reason to fine-tune his interrogation techniques. At the beginning, he was only in it for the wealth that would be bestowed on him for his success in delivering these two to the open arms of Zouhir. But now, it had become quite an obsession with tormenting Jonathan. Fremantle found out that now, since he had a taste of what it was like to truly delve into this malevolent world of Zouhir's, he now knew that he enjoyed it quite well. Or was it that he just enjoyed the idea of tormenting Jonathan, himself?  
  
Fremantle was sure Zouhir wouldn't mind him delivering Jonathan a little battered and bruised. Of course, he would leave the actual killing blow for Zouhir. That should satisfy Zouhir's insatiable lust for blood, no matter what the condition he delivered Carnahan in.  
  
He began to circle Jonathan, contempt radiating from within. Fremantle never once took his eyes off Jonathan as he made his way around him. Jonathan watched and wondered just what brutality he was in store for now.  
  
"What is it, Carnahan?" snarled Fremantle. "Is there something you aren't telling me? Out with it, now!" he bellowed, simultaneously, with a resounding hit to Jonathan's jaw. Jonathan landed on the floor, but quickly rose to his feet.  
  
Deep down inside, Jonathan refused to let Fremantle get the upper hand. This was far too an important issue to let his guard down, to give in. If he let Fremantle get the slightest idea that the Medjai were getting ready for a large-scale attack on this pack of worthless scoundrels, then he would have utterly failed his family, and his friend.  
  
Determined not to fail, Jonathan didn't even so much as flinch when the blow was struck, nor when he had landed on the floor, which equally surprised and enraged Fremantle. His rage increased ten-fold when Jonathan stood and faced him with indignation glaring in his eyes. Even more so when Jonathan spoke.  
  
"Come on, I'm waiting on your fiendish fury to unleash itself on me," Jonathan said, mockingly. "Where is it? I'm waiting. Bring it on!"  
  
Alex was shocked but quite proud of his uncle's show of bravery. Alex didn't get to see it exhibited very often, but when it was, he was always in awe at what lay at the core of his uncle's spirit. Jonathan really did have a brave streak inside. And when needed, he called upon that reserve and used it without question.  
  
Fremantle continued his tirade of questions and battery, but to no avail. All the while, the Songhoi laughed among themselves at Fremantle and his weak display of his so-called 'brute force' in getting information. This irked Fremantle to no end. These warriors were at his disposal to do HIS will, not their own. How dare they laugh at him! However, Fremantle was growing very weary of his game with Jonathan. Now it was time for Jonathan to get a true taste of what he and his dear Medjai friends were soon to face.  
  
Fremantle turned his back on Jonathan to face the group of bloodthirsty warriors. He beckoned one of them forward. Jonathan's heart began to race ever so rapidly. He knew he was in serious trouble now. Jonathan prayed that the Medjai would interrupt their interrogation of him now. He had held up astonishingly well so far, despite the fact that he was quite bruised and bloody. But now, with the Songhoi being invited to join in on his torment, he really didn't know how long he could hold up under their type of physical battery.  
  
Instinctively and without a second thought, Jonathan grabbed Alex and pulled him behind his own back, in an effort to protect the child.  
  
A large and frightening man stepped forward. This warrior had all sorts of interesting gadgets of destruction on his person, but the most terrifying of all was his eyes. His eyes shone with a bloodlust Jonathan had never seen in his life. Never in his life, had Jonathan seen eyes that were more dangerous than a weapon in hand. This man's eyes glittered with pure unadulterated animosity. One that showed he took the utmost pleasure in torture. No wonder they were the enemy of the Medjai!  
  
A large lump formed in Jonathan's throat; still, he forced it down. He wanted to flee as fast and as far as he could, but there was nowhere to run. However irremediable the situation seemed, the incredible urge to escape these brutes was beyond comprehension. But Jonathan fought down this urge. Besides the fact that Alex needed him, Jonathan was tired of this whole charade of Fremantle's, and was bound and determined to stand strong in the face of this new adversary. He had to protect Alex and be strong for him, if for nothing else.  
  
The imposing man grabbed Jonathan by his robes, lifting him up in the air with ease. Jonathan stared down at this man with a crazed look of disbelief. Alex quickly latched onto the warrior's leg and bit furiously, in an effort to make the warrior drop Jonathan. The warrior looked down and laughed at Alex, not evening being affected by the intense bites, which now drew blood.  
  
"What is this warrior going to do to me?" Jonathan thought, suspended in mid-air. He didn't have much of a chance to wonder, as the warrior threw him across the room with an incredible force. Jonathan impacted against the wall with a resounding crunch. Pain immediately flared in his right shoulder, which had taken the brunt of the impact. Dazed, Jonathan lay on the dirty floor of the warehouse. Alarm sensors went off in his foggy brain, as he saw the man approach a very frightened Alex.  
  
The warrior picked Alex up, much the same way as he had Jonathan. He then gave the frightened child a not so sympathetic look. He continued to hold Alex there, waiting for Fremantle to indicate what he wished done, as he reveled in the child's' apparent fear. In a very broken English, the warrior spoke to the little boy he was toying with.  
  
"You bite me? I bite harder," the warrior laughed. Grabbing one of the boy's arm with his free hand, the warrior pulled Alex's arm closer to his now bared teeth. The warrior watched with extreme satisfaction at the fear he saw in the child.  
  
"Wait!" Jonathan yelled out, desperately trying to buy time. No way was he going to allow this animal to bite his nephew!  
  
Fremantle raised a hand to the warrior, indicating him to stop.  
  
"Mr. Carnahan, are we ready to talk now?" Fremantle snarled. "What do you know?"  
  
Jonathan was between a rock and a hard place for sure. He didn't want to ruin the Medjai's plans, nor did he wish to see Alex become a victim of this warrior's brutality.  
  
Alex began to kick as hard as he could at his captor. The warrior just laughed at the boy's weak attempts to free himself. The laughter of the warrior quickly defused Alex's fear and was replaced with anger. He hated to be laughed at. It only fueled the fire of anger that had flared once he had seen this man throw his uncle across the room. He continued to kick wildly, but to no avail. The warrior was enjoying it too much to notice that Alex's kicks were getting quite close to an area that would cause him great distress.  
  
"Let me down! Let go of me!" Alex screamed in anger.  
  
Finally, Alex hit his intended mark. The warrior's face contorted in pain, and loosened his grip on the child. Alex fell hard to the floor, and so did the warrior. He dropped to his knees, and doubled over with the onslaught of pain pervading his senses. Alex scampered over to his uncle's side, fear and anger intermingling now, with thoughts of what consequence he would face, because of his low blow.  
  
The other warriors laughed at the whole situation. This angered the injured man. Knowing that this young pathetic child had done this to him, as well as the other warriors laughing at his predicament, provoked him into a full-blown rage. Slowly, but surely, he rose. He lurched forward to grab Alex. Just as he reached him, Jonathan grabbed Alex first, and pulled him behind himself, shielding him with his own body. The warrior grabbed his scimitar's handle and unsheathed it. He raised it to inflict a killing blow to Jonathan, despite the orders they had been given to deliver the captives alive. If Carnahan wanted to die first, then so be it. Standing ever still, Jonathan stared defiantly at the warrior and waited for the scimitar to impact with his body. It never came.  
  
The warrior's face contorted in a startled and confused look. He fell to his knees before falling flat on his face; dead. A large dagger handle protruded from the warrior's back. The other warriors had been too caught up in their jovial laughter to notice that an attack had commenced.  
  
Fremantle's own laughter echoed throughout the back of the warehouse. It was empty for the most part, as the owners of the warehouse were preparing for a large shipment. He was so caught up in his own reveling, that he didn't notice they weren't alone.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
After the group had entered the warehouse's back entrance, Quadir, Yazeed and Shakil veered off in a slight manner, but one that would catch the ever- watchful eyes of the Cairo Medjai.  
  
Tyreek and Wadid were walking from the front of the building. They had rounded the corner of the building next to the warehouse and had posted several warriors to keep watch in case any of the men came out of the front.  
  
Orders were then given after all were certain that no one else of the group were lagging behind. The orders were that a very large contingent of warriors were to be posted across the street facing the front of the warehouse, as well as the back of it and surrounding buildings. In fact, the entire structure had been surrounded by the strangest group of men imaginable. They all looked at each other and had to suppress the laughter that threatened to rise, despite the situation. If the circumstances were not so dire, they all might have found the predicament extremely humorous. They looked like a large line of beggars waiting for handouts. Their disguises had worked all for the better.  
  
Each minute that passed placed Carnahan and the young boy in an even more precarious situation. They had little time to act. They knew what they were facing, some had seen very large cloaked figures enter the back door, sources had reported.  
  
Quadir and the other London Medjai had stopped as they rounded the side of the building across from the back entrance. Uzmir and Quadamah quickly joined them.  
  
Since communication had been established via wire on the boat, no introductions were needed. Uzmir and Quadir had known each other for many years. Quadir had been born into the Medjai of Cairo, and had left on a mission years before to London. The Medjai in London had convinced him to stay, as his type of leadership skills were needed there.  
  
"It is good to see you my old friend," Uzmir said.  
  
"Yes, Uzmir, it has been much too long," replied Quadir, embracing his long time friend. "I just wish that this would be much better terms of a reunion."  
  
"Are you sure they are all in the warehouse?" Quadir asked.  
  
"Lookouts have been posted for three days. We've watched their activity consistently. We know that all have been accounted for," Uzmir replied.  
  
"Of course, there will be those who are their contacts in the city that are not directly involved in the abduction," Quadir added.  
  
"Yes, my friend," replied Uzmir. "But we will deal with them. All exits from the city have been cut off as we speak. No one will be allowed to leave, unless we know their identity and destination. We have the full cooperation of the law enforcement here. The city officials have rounded up several people who have been caught trying to send messages out that were of a suspicious nature. Every possible way of communication has been monitored by our various contacts throughout the city."  
  
"Excellent work, Uzmir," Quadir said smiling. "You and our Cairo brothers are, as always, a great asset to all our people."  
  
Despite the indisputable odds of a great Medjai victory here, the situation still weighed heavily upon Uzmir's heart.  
  
"Quadir," Uzmir hesitated. "We have word of a serious complication. Zouhir has employed the services of the Songhoi."  
  
Quadir just stared at Uzmir, in a state of relative shock. The Songhoi were one of the Medjai's most hated and dangerous enemies. Their treachery and penchant for dishonorable fighting tactics had been seen many times. However, the Medjai knew well, the phrase 'know thine enemy.' And know them, the Medjai did, indeed. Knowing how these warriors operated in thought and action was the key in taking them down. The Medjai had a lot of experience in taking down the Songhoi; when those giants chose to rear their ugly heads.  
  
"How many?" queried Quadir.  
  
"Roughly fifteen entered the warehouse. They were cloaked and hooded, but their size gave them away. No race of warriors are all that immense in size," Uzmir said, raising an eyebrow in anticipation of what was to come.  
  
Uzmir and Quadir both thought over the newest addition to their dilemma. Their victory would have been easy, much too easy. Of course, the mastermind of this all was much more clever than that. Now, both men wondered how many more Songhoi were involved. They knew where there were a few, many more would follow. But where?  
  
Somehow, somewhere, they knew there had to be a catch. Nothing was this easy. Fortunately, the Medjai were able to find the catch here, before the catch caught them unawares.  
  
New plans were made; they had to use the element of surprise. Although the Songhoi numbered only fifteen, it would prove difficult to take them down quickly. Many Medjai would be lost in the fight against the Songhoi alone. Their brute strength and ruthless tactics would force the Medjai to change their own tactics in order to compensate to get the upper hand and turn it over into a Medjai victory.  
  
"The rest have to be after Ardeth and the O'Connell's," stated Uzmir. "Or they are lying in wait at the Great Oasis, or near the Caverns."  
  
The fear of the unknown, concerning the Songhoi, was getting the best of Uzmir. They needed to know how many they were actually facing. This information would be crucial in the ultimate victory over their every- growing adversaries.  
  
"We need to keep the one they call 'Fremantle' alive," said Quadir. "I have seen him, watched him. I know that he is not as brave as he pretends. He will know how many we face."  
  
"What if we manage to constrain one of the Songhoi?" asked Quadamah. "Possibly, we may be able to force the information out of him."  
  
"Impossible, Quadamah," replied Uzmir, shaking his head. "You are young, and though you have faced many opponents of ours, you have never experienced the displeasure of a confrontation with a Songhoi. They will never divulge information, which I can understand, as we would rather die than betray our brethren, or cause. But these warriors are the strangest you will ever encounter. There are many tales, from ancient times as well as current, of their peculiar nature. But that is a long story, one to be told on our voyage into the deep desert. For now, we must focus on keeping the Englishman, Fremantle alive. He will be the key to the information we seek."  
  
"Pass the word, Quadamah," Uzmir told him. "Make sure that all know that the Englishman is to be kept alive, should he try to escape the building."  
  
With a nod, Quadamah turned and walked a short distance to the closest warrior to him. He passed on the message and it continued to spread to all warriors.  
  
Motioning to another warrior to approach, Uzmir wrote on several strips of paper, messages of his news and concerns about the Songhoi being involved. This young warrior had the look of one who had just become a warrior, he looked to be a mere fifteen years old, if that. Uzmir ordered the warrior to attach the notes to waiting falcons a few buildings over and to dispatch them immediately. The Medjai in the desert needed to know of this new turn of events, it would be crucial to their victory.  
  
"Do you know this warrior?" asked Quadir, knowing of the deceptive infiltration of the 5th's tribe several days before.  
  
"Yes, Quadir," replied Uzmir, knowing well what Quadir was referring to. "He is Quadir, my son. He had better be on the right side!"  
  
Quadir, realizing now that Uzmir, the friend of his youth, had named his son after him, made Quadir beam with pride at his friends long distance, undying friendship.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Cautiously looking inside one of the windows, Quadir saw a menacing figure lunging towards Carnahan, who had so bravely pulled the young boy behind him. Waiting for the right moment, as the warrior raised his scimitar, Quadir expertly threw one of his daggers, plunging it deeply into the warrior's back. Now, was the time for the battle to commence.  
  
With a loud battle cry, the Medjai burst into both entrances. Chaos rained down on any and all who dared to oppose the formidable men in rags.  
  
Fremantle cursed vehemently, angry of the Medjai's uncharacteristic use of deception. He quickly made a mad dash towards the back entrance which seemed to be wide open for escape. Nothing was in his mind at the moment but saving his own skin. But what would Zouhir do to him, because of his failure? His skin might not be worth saving after all.  
  
Hurriedly, running through the door, as the bloody battle raged, his perpetual guard dropped momentarily. There seemed to be no one outside. That would definitely work in his favor. However, a few steps farther into the darkness, he was greeted by the razor sharp blade of a scimitar strategically placed at his throat.  
  
"Going somewhere, Englishman?" a raggedy, armed man asked.  
  
Fremantle didn't know what to do. Either he would die right now by the hand of this man, or would suffer the wrath of Zouhir later.  
  
Hoping now that he could possibly reason with the madman, Zouhir, he threw up his hands in submission. But unbeknownst to his captor, Fremantle was immediately working on a plan of escape.  
  
The battle raged on for sometime now. The men waiting for the boat and Fremantle's goons were nothing to take down. But the Songhoi were another matter entirely.  
  
The Songhoi and Medjai fought furiously for the advantage over each other.  
  
The Songhoi, though much larger in size, were no match for the adept skills of the Medjai. Of course, the Medjai had to do some adjusting of their skills because of the Songhoi's sheer size and brute strength.  
  
In a matter of a mere thirty minutes, all was nearly in control of the Medjai. Almost all the Songhoi had been killed. Some of Zouhir's men were a bit luckier; the few who had immediately given up were taken as prisoners and now would be subjected to interrogation from the Medjai.  
  
The Medjai needed to know how many Songhoi they were to face. At least a dozen Medjai had died at the hands of the Songhoi before they were finally taken out completely.  
  
Tyreek walked in with the one that Uzmir had given orders not to kill. Uzmir now stood in front of the pompous idiot, Fremantle. Uzmir was joined now by Quadir, as well as a host of Medjai warriors, who had gratefully traded the rags for their honored robes. This had been done so quickly that Uzmir and Quadir couldn't suppress the slight smiles, knowing how the disguise had not set well with any of the warriors.  
  
Some of the Medjai had already started tending to the injured Carnahan and the young boy. They did all they could to make them comfortable and made sure they had plenty of food and water. They had even offered Jonathan some alcohol, which Jonathan took eagerly, but not without a look of puzzlement on his face. He knew that the Medjai were Muslim, and tried to figure out why they had alcohol on hand. Too exhausted and weary to ask, Jonathan just smiled and gratefully accepted.  
  
The warrior handing it to him understood Jonathan's unvocalized question. "It is made from honey," said the warrior, smiling. "Very, very good, and will help ease your pain."  
  
Jonathan offered his thanks and gratefully drank from the flask. It was quite different in flavor, but smooth, and, well, very delicious. He offered it back to the warrior, but the warrior pushed his pro-offered hand back, letting Jonathan know that it was for him to keep.  
  
Jonathan made a mental note to find more of this wonderful drink when all this brouhaha was over with, and stock up on it.  
  
In the meantime, Quadir and Uzmir focused on the job at hand. They needed to interrogate Fremantle. He would give them the information, if it came with the last breath he would take.  
  
Jonathan had watched Tyreek bring his personal nemesis in. He wanted nothing more than to beat and interrogate him. But he knew that for right now, it was better to leave it in the ever-capable Medjai hands. And so, the interrogation began.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* 


	13. Endless Love chapter 13

My utmost thanks to you all for the wonderful reviews on chapter 12. Sorry for the delay in chapter 13, but those little curves keep getting bigger and bigger. My thanks to Karri, Deana, Montana, Catherine, Soph, Moonwing, Angela, Mommints, Anya, Ariane, and Eva who took the time to read my twelfth chapter. I appreciate it more than you know! My sincere apologies if I missed anyone who reviewed. And always, my thanks to Dee and Karri for always giving the moral support I need, and the ideas when I'm stumped.  
  
ENDLESS LOVE CHAPTER 13  
  
THE GREAT TRAP  
  
Ardeth and Rick ran blindly through the thick foliage. Desperate for any visible sign of hope; they knew that they were running out of time. Evy's life would be forfeit if they didn't find them soon. Abdul and Shariyf had gone in the opposite direction, all four men, desperately hoped that they could surround and subdue the imposters before they could do harm. Rick had this crazed look in his eyes all too familiar to Ardeth. Silently, Ardeth fought against the rising sensations that were threatening to take over. He could not bear to see Evy fall prey to these animals as his own family had.  
  
"Ardeth, I can't take this. Not again. I can't bear to lose her again," Rick said, unshed tears threatening to spill.  
  
Ardeth stopped his strides, being at a loss for words. Ardeth, guilt- ridden, with eyes cast down, finally got the courage to look back at Rick. He turned to Rick and placed a reassuring hand on Rick's shoulder. He felt responsible for this happening. If Shunnar had not sent that message, maybe, just maybe, the O'Connell's would have found safe haven in Cairo.  
  
"Please believe me, my friend. We will find her. They cannot leave the oasis without us knowing. My other warriors are stationed strategically. They will let us know if..." Ardeth was cut off abruptly.  
  
Rick waved his hand to silence him. Ardeth watched Rick as he moved forward a little. A tattered piece of cloth hung limply from a low branch. Rick recognized it immediately. It was a shred of Medjai cloth. He turned quickly to Ardeth, whose trained eyes had spotted it as well. Ardeth picked the piece of cloth off the branch. He didn't like what he saw at all. The cloth was soaked in blood. But whose cloth was it, and whose blood? Silently praying that it wasn't Evy's, Rick turned to Ardeth. Ardeth knew what Rick was thinking. Unfortunately, Ardeth was once again at a loss for words. "Rick, we'll find her," was all he could say.  
  
Without another word, they both sprinted forward. They were on the right track. There was blood on the leaves of bushes, left as someone brushed against them. But how much damage had already been done? The two men had to fight down identical feelings of dread as they continued forward.  
  
They continued their trek forward, looking for anymore signs along the way. Ardeth knew that by now, Abdul and Shariyf should be rendezvousing with them. But where were they? Ardeth stopped dead in his tracks. He heard something off in a distance. Something very familiar. The sounds of scimitars clashing.  
  
Hurriedly, he started to rush forward, leaving Rick standing behind, a few seconds, before realizing what Ardeth was doing. Rick had not heard the sounds, nor did he know where Ardeth was headed, but he willed his weary body to follow. He trusted Ardeth to know what he was doing, as he was well aware that his warrior friend had an acute sense of hearing and impeccable instincts.  
  
Rick could hear the sounds emanating from a distance now. Adrenaline flowed through him like a river as he raced behind Ardeth to catch up. Ardeth had reached the epicenter of the sound, and found it to be both Abdul and Shariyf in a fierce battle with seven warriors.  
  
"Seven warriors?" Ardeth's mind questioned. "Where did the other ones come from?" he thought. He scanned the area and motioned to Rick where he spotted Evy beside a boulder. Her robes had been literally torn to shreds. From the look on her face, Ardeth became even more enraged as he realized just what these imposters had done, or had attempted to. He earnestly prayed that Abdul and Shariyf had gotten there in time to prevent it from happening.  
  
Rick, started to head into the fight, flying into an uncontrollable rage. Seeing his wife in this condition made him want nothing more than to kill her assailants. Ardeth understood completely, Rick's need to get at these warriors. But now was not the time. Evy needed him more than his need for retribution.  
  
Rick hurried to Evy's side. She had a crazed look in her eyes. She was without a doubt in shock, as she did not respond to Rick calling out her name. Quickly, Rick pulled her into his arms, and began to check her for any wounds. She had been battered, that was for sure. Her face was showing signs of significant bruising, and her leg had a deep gash that was bleedy quite freely. But Rick was hoping and praying that they had not gotten as far as it looked.  
  
"Evy, please look at me," Rick pleaded. He received no response. He tried to move his hand lower to check for any signs of further damage. Evy started hitting Rick, not realizing that it was her husband who was trying to touch her in a more personal way. Rick's heart was heavy with pain and anger. Evy was bleeding and Rick needed to at least tend to her leg wound. Even more so, Rick wanted to go and choke the life out of these men. Anyone of them he could get his hands on would meet their own demise. But he knew that Ardeth was right. Evy needed him. Instead, Rick just held her tight, rocking back and forth trying to offer any comfort he could while fighting back his own tears. He resigned himself to find out later just how much damage had been done.  
  
Rick continued to embrace Evy all the while he watched the three warriors take down the disguised enemy. Ardeth, Abdul and Shariyf fought with an unmatched ferocity that Rick had never seen exhibited before. He had seen them fight many times, but never with this intensity. Within but a few minutes time, they had slain all but two of them. The two, they held roughly pinned to the ground.  
  
Ardeth walked over to Rick and Evy's side, looking at Rick in anticipation of just how far this had gone. Rick could read Ardeth's mind, and shook his head, indicating that he did not know yet.  
  
Evy's eyes were fixated on nothing in particular, but staring off with fright still reflecting in her eyes. Rick motioned for Ardeth to try to talk to her. Maybe he could get through to her, Rick hoped.  
  
"Evy, we need to see how bad they hurt you," Ardeth said, ever so gently. Carefully he reached out to her, as not to scare her. Instinctively, she recoiled from the invasive maneuver. Ardeth backed off for a minute. Then, looking at Rick for a cue, he tried again, even slower this time, talking in a soothing voice. Immediately, she began thrashing out at him, now trying her best to get away from her assailants. In her mind, she could feel these men still hitting her, trying to abuse her. Her clothes; all but gone, Evy could only think of fleeing from her oppressors. Evy tried to scurry off from the men, not realizing that it was Rick and Ardeth who were so desperately trying to help her. All she could see were black robes and faceless men whose hands continued to grope her.  
  
Ardeth and Rick knew what needed to be done; however, neither wanted to. She needed to be slapped in the face in order to get her out of this mental delirium. Rick finally gave in to the need and slapped her quickly on her unbruised cheek. Ardeth flinched as Rick slapped her, knowing that the one think she really didn't need was to have another bruise. The worthless men did a good enough job themselves.  
  
It worked, as Evy finally started to cry. And cry she did, quite uncontrollably. She had only wanted to go for a walk. Never once, did she expect that some of the men that had accompanied them from Cairo to be their enemy. They had caught her off-guard while looking at some unusual flora.  
  
"Oh Rick!" she cried. Rick was finally able to wrap his robe around her. She continued to cry and wrap her arms around herself. Evy felt ashamed of the state of undress she was in, as well as the fact that she had been obviously fighting against Rick and Ardeth as they tried to come to her aid.  
  
"Evy, did they, you know," Rick tried to figure a way to say it subtly.  
  
"No Rick, they tried, but Abdul and Shariyf caught them before they could do anything worse than this," Evy said, motioning with her hand to assure him.  
  
"Thank God," Rick replied with great relief. "Lord knows, they did enough damage to you as it is."  
  
Shariyf had walked over to them, nodding in respect to Evy.  
  
"Ardeth, what do you want us to do with these two?" Shariyf asked. Abdul still had the two face down on the ground, daring them to make a move.  
  
"Rick, you wanted to get into the fight earlier. Do you still wish to take matters into your own hands?" Ardeth asked.  
  
"You better believe it!" Rick said, glaring at the two on the ground.  
  
"Rick, just make sure one lives," Ardeth replied. "I need one. I intend to take him as hostage to the caverns with us."  
  
"Oh, Ardeth, I'm not gonna kill them. I'm just gonna make them wish they were dead," Rick said, a mirthless smile on his lips.  
  
Rick began his menacing walk, now approaching Abdul, as Shariyf, had just returned back to Abdul's side.  
  
"Abdul, ah, Shariyf," Rick said, trying to find the words. "Thank you for saving my wife from them."  
  
"O'Connell, I just wish that we could have made it here before they even had the chance to accomplish anything," Abdul said, with a heavy sigh.  
  
"Yeah, but thinking what they could have done to her and what was done, well, I'm glad you got there when you did. And thanks for sticking your necks out for her. I mean it," Rick replied earnestly. "You saved her life."  
  
Rick nodded in acknowledgement, then patted Abdul on the shoulder. He walked the couple steps necessary and stood over the two men. One of them was attempting to get up, but Shariyf wouldn't have any of that. He barked something in Arabic at the man, who quickly fell back to the ground, immense fear reflecting in his eyes.  
  
"Oh wait, Shariyf, the poor fella wants to get up," Rick said, snidely. "I think I'll help him."  
  
With that said, Rick grabbed the man and proceeded to toss him around like he was nothing more than a stick to be toyed with. The adrenaline rushing through Rick's body gave him the extra strength needed to thoroughly accomplish his task. Rick kept up his pace with both men, until he was thoroughly winded and his muscles cramping. By now, both men looked much worse than Evy. But one of them had such an arrogant air about him, even his beating didn't subdue his bitter hatred that glared from the depths of his eyes.  
  
"What are you looking at?!" yelled Rick, at the obstinant imposter.  
  
The man preferred not to expose his identity, but decided to antagonize O'Connell further. He had learned well how to manipulate and humiliate, and decided that now was the time to put his expertise to work. This would give them the extra time they needed.  
  
"A dead man," the imposter said, smiling wickedly. "I'll enjoy watching you and your beautiful wife die. And she is quite beautiful, isn't she? Not to mention your son, and your wife's brother. I believe that you will get to enjoy watching them die, then you will meet your own fate. Unfortunately, though, you won't get to see the great Medjai King's death. He will have the honor of watching you all die first. Then, oh yes, then, he will die the most hideous death of all."  
  
Rick didn't say a word, as he pounced on the man, pinning him to the ground. He didn't have any patience for this psychopathic idiot. All he could think of was shutting him up, for good. Rick hit the man multiple times, his fists finding their mark. The imposter wasn't going to give up without a fight. He was good at that too. Rolling from under Rick, he hit Rick back, strategically, to knock the wind out of him. He gained some footage and stepped away quickly out of Rick's reach, but was abruptly cut off by the razor sharp scimitar of Abdul.  
  
"Just take one more step. That is all I'm asking you, just one more," said a very agitated Abdul. "I've had enough of your sick games! Your people will be the ones to die, starting with you!" Abdul snarled at the man.  
  
"Abdul, Abdul," said the man, patronizingly. "You above all, should understand our mission. After all, you are the only binding tie left to the great Medjai race. Your destiny will lie with us in the end."  
  
Abdul's look was a mixture of absolute hate and incredulity. He could not escape the inevitability of his blood ties with Zouhir, but never would he join these dishonorable dogs.  
  
"Never will I join you, nor will I let you succeed," Abdul answered with great conviction. "I will die before I will let you succeed in harming any more of Ardeth's family or those dear to him. And as of my heritage, there is nothing I can do about that. But never will I join, nor condone my former father's behavior. All I ever remember is his hatred and violent behavior. Never will I ever embrace Zouhir's macabre practices or his relentless pursuit for revenge against the judgement he was due."  
  
"Then you shall die with them, my brother," the imposter said, smiling. "Do you even think that we would have staged this magnificent operation without a backup plan? There are more of us than you think. More than the Medjai can conquer. Much more than your pathetic guards can handle."  
  
Ardeth just stood and absorbed all that was unfolding. His uneasy feeling grew deeper, but not because of the man's threats. He was used to worse threats than this. But what bothered him the most was the cryptic messages he was sending Abdul. Abdul, of course, was so aggravated with the man's contentious demeanor, he just wasn't catching on. Or was he? 'Brother?, much more than your pathetic guards can handle?' Ardeth's innermost thoughts queried. Just how many were they yet to encounter?  
  
"Ardeth," Abdul said, a little wary. "If there were more of these men waiting here, then whose to say that there aren't more?" Quickly, Shariyf and Rick turned to Ardeth, questioningly and with a rising sense of alarm.  
  
"Where are the other warriors positioned?" Abdul asked Ardeth.  
  
"Around the perimeter of the oasis, and two to watch the women and children," responded Ardeth, in a very intense tone.  
  
"Abdul, Shariyf, check the perimeter of the oasis. Bind these men, and bring them with you," Ardeth said, quickly moving towards the location of the women and children.  
  
Rick and Ardeth ran through the thick bushes, racing against time. It wouldn't have taken long  
  
to reach the women, but Rick was carrying Evy, as she was too weak to walk, much less run.  
  
Ardeth turned back to look at Rick, lagging behind slightly. He knew that he couldn't wait for him to catch up, time was of the essense.  
  
"Ardeth, go on. We'll catch up to you. You have to make sure that nothing has happened to the women and children," Rick said breathlessly.  
  
That would have seemed to be a good plan, if they weren't facing the current circumstances. No, Ardeth couldn't leave them. These men could be anywhere, waiting to abduct them individually, if that would be the case. Ardeth knew, that without a doubt, he had to stay close to Rick and Evy to protect them. He couldn't take the chance. Zouhir had made that very clear. There was no room for chance or error at all. They would all have to stick together and watch each others back closely. Ardeth just hoped that the Medjai from London and the Cairo Medjai were doing as good a job in protecting Alex and Jonathan.  
  
"No, Rick," responded Ardeth. "We stay together, no matter what. To not, could prove disastrous. We need to protect each other's backs. Zouhir has made sure of that."  
  
Rick couldn't deny that Ardeth was accurate in his analysis of this situation. He knew that this was more precarious a situation than he had really thought it would turn out to be. Without argument, he nodded his agreement as they continued through the thick foliage.  
  
Rick was growing tired. He had thoroughly worn himself out when he exacted some justice on the two imposters left to be their hostages. Ardeth noticed this, and immediately grabbed Evy out of Rick's arms and began running with her, giving Rick a break from running with the extra weight.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
A short time later Rick, Evy and Ardeth had reached the opening where the women and children were. Rick saw it coming before Ardeth had a chance to see anything. Emerging from the brush, at the edge of the clearing, Ardeth was thrown to the ground, with Evy still in his arms. Rick pulled one of his guns, but not in time as a towering man wrapped a large hand around his throat.  
  
The huge man held Rick suspended in the air by his throat, cutting off his breath. His body in spasms, the gun fell at the man's feet. Ardeth struggled with the other man that had thrown him down. Evy, in the midst of the fighting, didn't know what to do as her wounds impeded her assisting Rick and Ardeth. Of course, her assistance if any, would have proved to be in vain. She had never seen such frightening looking men. Evy looked over to the women and children. They were frightened beyond words. They were surrounded by these immense warriors.  
  
Rick continued his struggle with the large man. He was losing the battle with unconsciousness, as the man's grip was very strong. He had struggled desperately to gain an advantage to make the man release him, but to no avail. Finally, sensing that his captive was losing consciousness, the man dropped Rick to the ground.  
  
Evy hurried to Rick's side, trying desperately to rouse him from the brink of unconsciousness. She needed him. They all needed him. Turning around, she saw Ardeth gain a measure of advantage against his opponent.  
  
Ardeth loosened from the man's grip, rapidly rolled on the ground, and gained his footing. With incredible speed, he unsheathed his scimitar. His opponent, stood laughing, and did the same. Ardeth couldn't spare a look over at the women and children, nor could he really spare a look at anyone at all. He had to take down as many of these men as quickly as possible. Ardeth knew that Rick was injured and no one else was here to assist him. His mind whirled with thoughts as he fought the man, blow for blow. His thoughts turned to Abdul and Shariyf. Were they facing some of their opponents at the perimeter as well? He hoped and prayed that they would show up at any moment. Rick and Ardeth desperately needed their assistance here. Ardeth's body was worn down, but his indomitable spirit refused give up.  
  
Rick was coming to now, and noticed that the man who had grabbed him was now approaching Ardeth, as he must have assumed that Rick would not recover quickly.  
  
Ardeth was now facing two of these menacing men. They were both very large, and towered over Ardeth. But, he was not about to give in. He couldn't. He may die trying, but he couldn't give up. Too many lives were depending on his overcoming the enemy they faced.  
  
With a quick move that took the first man by surprise, Ardeth's expertise with scimitars paid off. The man, who was so confident, and laughed at Ardeth, lay on the ground bleeding profusely, as Ardeth had impaled him with his scimitar. Ardeth gave the man an indignant look, retrieved his scimitar from the man's body with a harsh jerk and turned quickly to face his new opponent.  
  
As Ardeth turned, he wasn't able to compensate for the move that the other man made. Quickly, the huge man grabbed Ardeth's arm, twisting it, making the scimitar fall from his hand. Without effort, the man picked Ardeth up in one quick move and suspended him across his immense shoulders. His intentions were ever clear, as Ardeth's body was bowed backwards, preparing to break Ardeth's back. Ardeth knew that at any second, his life would be over. He tried to think of a way to compensate with a counter-measure at this angle, but was at a loss to find one.  
  
The large man considered for a brief moment, the orders passed down from his superiors about the Medjai King, and scoffed. He didn't care about these orders, nor was he afraid of 'this' Zouhir. All he could see was the glory of an even greater kill, that of a king, and of the Medjai King at that. If this 'Zouhir' didn't like it, then he would kill him as well.  
  
With immense strength pervading through his arms, the man smiled wickedly as he began to lift Ardeth high above his head, preparing for his final assault. But he didn't get the chance to complete his intended fatal move.  
  
The man's attempt failed, as Rick had quickly come up behind the man, surprising him. As the man turned, Rick didn't bother with the gun that he had dropped. He grabbed one of his knives that he kept handy, and as soon as the man turned, Rick plunged it deeply into the man's abdomen. Despite his wound, the man still stood, looking at Rick in shock, with Ardeth still suspended high above the man's head. But that wasn't good enough, not by far as Rick was concerned. With a quick move, Rick pulled the blade up and ripped the man's abdomen open all the way to his sternum.  
  
The bewildered and completely gutted man, lost his strong grip on Ardeth, letting him plummet to the ground. The man fell to his knees, still looking at Rick in disbelief. Slowly, he fell face down, his lifeblood pouring relentlessly into the desert sand beneath.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Shariyf and Abdul had ran as fast as possible with their charges in tow. They knew that the race against time was not in their favor. Of course, the imposters weren't making it easy for them. They did their best to slow the Medjai warriors down. But they knew what was waiting for them around the perimeter of the oasis. No matter where they ended up exiting, they would be there, waiting.  
  
More than once, Shariyf and Abdul had to threaten the two with the edges of their scimitars. Of course, the two imposters went along with it. They had to stay alive. Afterall, they knew that these honorable Medjai warriors wouldn't disobey their leader's orders.  
  
"Abdul, I don't know about this. Something doesn't feel right," Shariyf said, a little more than alarmed, as they continued their arduous trek. "We shouldn't have split up."  
  
"Yes, this whole oasis feels like a trap," responded Abdul. "I hope that Ardeth and Rick have gotten to the clearing safely. But I seriously doubt it. I have the same feeling, my friend."  
  
"Do you really think you can win, Abdul?" said his irritating nemesis. "How much longer will you continue to fight against us?"  
  
Abdul gave a rather strong jerk to the tether that held the man captive. His hands were tied behind his back, but the tether was secured around the man's neck. Abdul was beginning to seriously think about tightening the tether, impairing the man's ability to utter another word, as well as another breath.  
  
The pretentious imposter continued his verbal antagonism on Abdul. It was definitely grating against Abdul's nerves, but was trying his best to maintain control by ignoring his constant berating comments.  
  
Shariyf, on the otherhand, had had enough of this man's snide attitude. He wanted nothing more than to let loose of his own charge and shut that churlish mouth permanently.  
  
"Now, now, Abdul, think about it. No one wants you in the Medjai circle. Your own mother detests your presence. Wouldn't it be better to turn against those that truly hate you. I'm sure that your leader only tolerates you because of his pathetic sympathy for your miserable predicament."  
  
Abdul stopped and looked down at the ground. Surely, this man knew more about him than most did. Abdul knew that many things his nemesis had said reflected how he perceived himself in the Medjai. For a moment's delay, Abdul was near to retreating back into himself. Into his old self.  
  
As for Shariyf, this was the last straw. He spun around and attempted to hand Abdul the other man's tether. But Abdul, stil looking down, refused to take it. Without a word, Shariyf threw the tether to the ground and his fist impacted with the man's jaw with such a ferocity, the bones were in danger of breaking. Blood flowed freely from the man's mouth. On the ground, bleeding, yet he laughed at Shariyf, despite his physical pain.  
  
"Well, now, I do believe we struck a nerve, didn't we?" the bleeding man said, smiling wickedly with no thought of his pain.  
  
Shariyf was beyond any measure of reason now. In the short time since Abdul had come back with Ardeth, he seemed to be another man. The Abdul he had wanted to see all his life. Now, he not only hated this man for his role in the obliteration of Ardeth's family, but now, how he was tormenting Abdul as well.  
  
Grabbing the man, once again, Shariyf lifted him off the ground and gifted the man with a various array of punches to the midsection. In Shariyf's mind, it couldn't hurt the man anymore than the harsh words had hurt Abdul. Shariyf's mind screamed that this wasn't a just compensation for what he had done to Abdul. Now, the man would receive his reward for the unjust treatment of his reclusive friend. Looking down at the man with uncontrollable anger, he raised his scimitar above his head, preparing for a killing blow. After all, Ardeth had said that they only needed one left alive. He decided to take Ardeth up on his indirect offer.  
  
Abdul grabbed Shariyf's arm, shaking his head. Shariyf looked at Abdul in disbelief. Of all the bizarre situations they had faced side by side, no matter how distant Abdul placed himself; Shariyf would have gladly killed to preserve Abdul's honor. This man was a threat to Abdul, Shariyf could definitely ascertain. But Shariyf could not afford to let this man bring Abdul back to the depths of despair that had always befriended him.  
  
"No, Shariyf," Abdul said. "I will not allow you to kill him. There are answers that I must find out. Things that he has said that I do not understand, nor do I know if I really want to know. But I have to find out. He is just trying to get us to let our guard down. Ignore his insults and let us continue to follow Ardeth's orders."  
  
Shariyf shoulder's dropped as he relinquished his tight hold on the scimitar in deferrence to his friend's request. But his rage refused to be quelled. The man wouldn't get off that easily. With a quick kick, Shariyf sent the man sprawling once more to the ground, bleeding even more heavily. At least Abdul still had some measure of confidence Shariyf had witnessed earlier. He hoped, above all, that Abdul could shake off any doubts that the perpetrator had tried to implant into the depths of Abdul's soul.  
  
Bending down over the bleeding supine figure, Shariyf snarled in the man's face. "Utter one more word to Abdul, and he will not be able to stop me again."  
  
Together, Abdul and Shariyf continued their trek through the oasis, and knew that they were nearing the perimeter. As they approached the perimeter, they found one of the warriors from the 5th tribe. A true Medjai. He was lying on the ground, dead. Abdul bent down to check out the cause of the warrior's death, as Shariyf kept a close eye on both captives. There was a lot of blood. The warrior had been taken down without even so much as a fight, as his scimitars were still sheathed and none of his daggers or guns were out of place. Looking closer, Abdul turned his head in disgust, seeing how the Medjai warrior had died. His throat had been ripped out, by what seemed to be a very strong hand.  
  
"He must have been taken by surprise," said Abdul. "These men have already shown their abilities in deception. Perhaps they are more than just cunning, there has to be some with extraordinary strength," added Abdul.  
  
"Abdul, we need to leave," said an alarmed Shariyf. "We need to get back to the rest. I have a feeling that this antagonist, motioning to Abdul's charge, has effectively sidetracked us in order that we could not fight in full force." Shariyf visibly shuddered as the realization of his gut instincts had been correct.  
  
The malicious laughter emanating from the bleeding man, in response to Shariyf's startling revelation was evidence enough to prove that his and Abdul's suspicions were correct. Ignoring the laughter, Abdul and Shariyf looked at each other in abject horror.  
  
"Ardeth!" yelled Abdul and Shariyf, simultaneously.  
  
They ran as fast as they could. This time, the two hostages didn't fight against their confines. They ran along with the Medjai warriors, keeping up with their pace. Of course, by now, the stage had already been set where all the others had waited for their arrival. Now, of course, all those at the clearing should have been effectively subdued. Now was the moment that the imposters had waited for. To see the Medjai King humbled and captured. 


	14. Endless Love A dedication Chapter 14

ENDLESS LOVE CHAPTER 14  
  
AUTHOR'S NOTE: A HEARTFELT DEDICATION TO THE LOVE THAT INSPIRED ARDETH AND HAYAT'S 'ENDLESS LOVE' PORTRAYED IN CHAPTER 1.  
  
I really don't know how to begin this, nor am I sure at this sad time in my life; I'll have the right words to be effective in conveying my message. At the behest of an author friend of mine, I am writing a brief synopsis of my life, and how certain aspects inspired my writing of Endless Love. I just hope that I can do justice to two of the most important people in my life. Please bear with me. I hope this isn't too boring, but it is very important to me to share this with you, as a major heartbreaking event has occurred in my life this week. And now, my life will never be the same again.  
  
Also, please excuse any grammatical errors, etc, as I am basically running on empty and not in my normal frame of mind.  
  
~ ~ ~ ~  
  
We often read stories of couples whose love is so great, they conquers all obstacles together in life despite insuperable odds. Unfortunately, most of us do not experience that type of love in real life. Many times, when hardships surround us, we tend to turn on the ones(or one) closest to us instead of binding closer and facing the seemingly impossible. The easier route is taken, and often, a supposed true love dissolves and nothing is gained.  
  
I am thankful for having been a witness to a 'true and endless love' from the first moment I was able to be aware of emotions as a small child. I was blessed, yes truly blessed to have been given parents whose love 'was' insurmountable. It knew no end. Yes, many times, there were hardships in their lives, but never did their love or faith in each other falter. The struggles and strife only proved to be a catalyst to deepen their love and trust that seemed to have existed from the beginning of time.  
  
It is often said that somewhere in this world, we each have a perfect match. A perfect mate. Many do not find that perfect mate. I'm thankful that my Mama and Daddy found each other. Actually, they had known each other all their lives. I was once told that my mama was sitting on my aunt's porch with the rest of her sisters(my mama was the youngest of 7 sisters)looking down the street as people strolled down the sidewalk(late 1930's). Looking down the road, Mama saw a young man of 19 walking down the street with his wife, and newborn baby girl in a carriage. Most everyone in our fishing community town knew each other well, and this was no exception for the Battise and LeBatard families. They had been well acquainted for many years, in fact; for many generations. Well, Mama was a young girl of 14 at the time, and as soon as she took notice of the young family walking up the street, she exclaimed, "I'm going to marry Rufus one day." Of course, all her sisters looked at Mama as if she were crazy, reminding her that Rufus was already married. That didn't daunt Mama's spirit. One of my aunts told me that Mama responded "right now he is, but one day he'll be mine."  
  
My mama had an acute intuitive mind, even from a very early age. She knew what she wanted, and knew in her heart that Rufus would be her husband one day. But at that time, no one knew of upcoming events that would initially cause utter devastation, but would prove to change the future for the better, for both of them.  
  
As it would happen, Rufus had some complications from a gunshot wound that he had been victim of a couple years before. His wife left him and divorced him, thinking he was going to be an invalid. She left with their 6 month old daughter and disappeared into obscurity. Rufus hunted for his daughter relentlessly, but to no avail.  
  
~ ~ ~ ~  
  
A little time passed, and by the time that Mama turned 15, she was Rufus's bride. It was hard on Rufus at first, as he had to develop a trust for his new bride, as the pain of abandonment of his first wife as well as his missing daughter from that marriage was still fresh. Soon, his new bride won his trust. Their love deepened for each other with each passing day, month, and year. Never did a struggle dampen their spirits, it only deepened their love and respect for each other. There were many happy moments and sad ones as well. They became the parents of 8 children, I, being the youngest.  
  
Never in all this time, did Daddy ever stop his search for his first daughter. Some unusual events occurred that brought my stepsister to us. But that's another story which I do not have time to tell, nor do I know if you would like to read it.  
  
Anyways, now that I've given you a rough overview of the early years, now I'll attempt to tell you how the connection between my parents and the story intertwine.  
  
~ ~ ~ ~  
  
My parents were married for 56 years. Their love for each other was the perfect example of an endless, everlasting love. You could see the love that was emblazened in their hearts reflect in their eyes. Never a harsh word was spoken between the two. Of course, they did have disagreements as all couples do, but they always talked issues out and respected each others opinion.  
  
As I said, I was the youngest child of 8 and was 'Daddy's shadow' from the time I was able to crawl. He was the best father I could have ever hoped for. In fact, both of my parents were heaven-sent. I was truly blessed with kind, loving parents who sacrificed much for the sake of their children.  
  
In 1996, my Daddy died in my Mama's arms. She was desperately trying to breathe for him when he was dying and he breathed his last breath into her. Shortly before dying, his last spoken word was a whispered 'honey'...as this was his favorite pet name for Mama. What more precious way to die than in the arms of the wife or husband that has loved you for so many years? Truly an endless love.  
  
~ ~ ~ ~  
  
Ever since that day, June 5, 1996, Mama began to fall apart. She had held up for him for several years, as Daddy had become an invalid to add to the pain of his loss of sight years before. Now was her turn.  
  
Mama endured 56 liver surgeries from 1996 to the end of 1999. Her body had succumbed to several forms of arthritis, and in the last two years of her life, had no cartilage in any of her joints. Her suffering was unimaginable.  
  
Tuesday, November 26, 2002, at 2:50 in the morning, God took Mama home. I was given the great privilege to be at her bedside when she died. I know death had to be a sweet release for her as she had loved and served the Lord all her life.  
  
She had suffered so much, no pain killer or combinations of pain killers could ease any of the suffering. God had granted her a deep sleep from Saturday through Monday evening. At the end, she was having difficulty breathing, and I had attached her to the oxygen unit. But still, she didn't wake. I was checking her pulse in a carotid artery, as none could be found in her wrist or arms. I checked, noticing that her breathing was slowly abating. As I checked her pulse in her throat, I felt 5 or 6 faint beats, then it was no more. Although sorrowful as I was, I was thankful that God had answered my prayer that she would die in her sleep, and not wake to the horrible pain that wracked her frail body.  
  
Now, Mama and Daddy are reunited once again, albeit, not in the same reference of husband and wife, but nevertheless together again. She now is not only joining the man she knew as husband, but a son, a daughter and my two babies that died before birth.  
  
Saturday morning at 10:00, we will commit her body to the earth, but her memory and love will always be cherished in my heart.  
  
~ ~ ~ ~  
  
So, you may see, the similarities of my parents lives, and the lives portrayed of Ardeth and Hayat in chapter 1. I fashioned their love after the love I had the privilege of witnessing for 36 years. I couldn't think of a better way of describing what true love was in my story for Ardeth and Hayat, without immediately thinking of my parents.  
  
~ ~ ~ ~  
  
Thank you all for taking the time to read this. Tomorrow at 10:00a.m., I will be reading two poems at her funeral service that I was compelled to write. My heart would not rest until I had my unspoken thoughts set in stone. One poem in dedication to my precious Mama, and the other in dedication to both my wonderful parents.  
  
Again, my thanks to you all for always taking interest in Endless Love and the wonderful reviews you have always left. You don't know how much you all mean to me. Also, thanks for being patient through my family history story.  
  
LuWanda Cockrell(Lula) 


	15. Endless Love Chapter 15

Despite all the sadness surrounding my life right now, I must say that your prayers and words of encouragement and condolence uplifted my spirit and continue to do so. I really can't find the appropriate words to reflect my true appreciation for all your concern, or to thank you all for the kindness you have shown. Catherine, Deana, Karri, Angela, Nancy, Anna, Julianna, Patty, Montana, Tasha, Ariane, Marie, Eva, Sandy, Shel: Thanks to you all for being here for me, no matter how far away you are. Miles do not matter, hearts do. The memory of your thoughts and prayers will forever live in my heart.  
  
If I forgot to recognize anyone, my sincere apologies.  
  
And thanks Karri...lol...FYI...I haven't killed that beautiful hydrangea you sent me! FTD has helped me learn alot about caring for it.  
  
Note: Chapter 15 will undoubtedly seem questionable to some readers. Understand this, it is concerning respect of others beliefs, even if we do not agree with that particular belief. Yikes! I don't know how to explain what I'm trying to say, but you all have known me long enough to know that I would never intentionally offend anyone, so if this note seems offending, I truly apologize. I am not trying to imply that you don't already know this...lol, but thought I might put it in nevertheless, in case someone new reads this and has questions. I am just trying to explain how I try to respect others beliefs and that it is sort of reflected in this chapter. Geez Louise! LOL...maybe ya'll can give me a hand in explaining what I'm trying to say, in case I get hit with some questioning reviews, huh? LOL...I seem to not be very effective in conveying what I'm desperately trying to put in words. Thanks for listening to my ramblings...lol.  
  
  
  
ENDLESS LOVE CHAPTER 15  
  
SECOND CHANCES  
  
The Medjai proceeded with their interrogation of Fremantle. It wasn't hard to get to the man; he was a pathetic example of weakness. It had not surprised Uzmir and Quadir how easy it was to obtain the information that was needed. Surely, the additional threat of the Songhoi would greatly benefit Zouhir. This would prove to be a battle of unprecedented proportions, on a natural scale. Although the Songhoi had been the mortal enemies of the Medjai for thousands of years, there had not been a full- scale battle in nearly a thousand years, only isolated battles here and there throughout the ages of time.  
  
"Uzmir, we have to spread the word to all tribes," Quadamah said, frantically. He still was in awe at the ferocity that these men had fought, and the size of them as well.  
  
"Word has already been sent," Uzmir said, smiling quiet comfort to the young Medjai. He was an excellent warrior, but very anxious. In time, that would leave, as his newness to battle was still prevalent.  
  
Quadamah nodded, in acknowledgement of understanding and trust in the older man. But he wondered just how bad it was really going to be and what would happen in the end to Ardeth, and to the Medjai race as well. Deep down inside Quadamah were the makings of a great commander, and his senses were reeling with the questions that seemed to have no definite answers, despite Uzmir's attempts to placate him.  
  
Through the interrogation of the Englishman, they had found out that according to his contacts, a large number of Songhoi were in hot pursuit of Ardeth and those in his company. Uzmir had the wisdom of years, but unfortunately, Quadamah had the impatience of youth. No word had been received on the whereabouts of Ardeth or the O'Connell's. Quadamah was fidgeting horribly with this lack of knowledge. Their King had seemed to disappear off the face of the earth, and he wanted to know why.  
  
To the utter dismay of Uzmir, Quadir and Abu-Badr-Ahmad, word had reached them of the disappearance of Shatarra, Ardeth's mother. Now, came the disturbing realization that Zouhir's men were infiltrating the tribes anyway they could. Now, Shatarra had undoubtedly been taken captive. The three commanders in Cairo worried over the solution, as well as the well being of Shatarra. She was of great age, and they wondered if she would survive the captivity at all, much less their treatment of her, which they knew would be harsh.  
  
Many of the Cairo Medjai, the London Medjai, and those of the 5th's tribe who had not been wounded from the battle with the disguised enemy would soon be leaving on their trek to meet up with the other tribes, and hopefully, with Ardeth himself. Uzmir, as well as the other two commanders, hated having to give the news of Shatarra's abduction to Ardeth. He had been through so much already, all three wondered if he would be about to handle it and still think rationally.  
  
This was all too much for Quadamah to take. He had met Shatarra many times, when she had accompanied Ardeth to Cairo, and as well as when he had gone with Uzmir to the desert. She was such a kind and loving elderly woman, one who had a generous amount of love, and was always ready to share it.  
  
Quadamah had seen what the toll had been on the 5th's tribe. They were downsized quite a bit because of the surprise attack. It was understandable, as their friend and foe seemed one in the same. Many lives were lost, and many lay wounded at various healer's homes.  
  
The twelve tribes were all involved and banding together to take down the enemy. Knowing how the 5th's tribe had been infiltrated by the enemy, and how they had just walked into the 1st tribe's village and abducted Shatarra, Quadamah wondered now just how many tribes had succumbed to their treachery and deceit. He wondered if Ardeth had already fallen prey to this deception.  
  
Walking off, he decided to do something he'd never done before. He would defy Uzmir's orders and leave to find his King. Never would he have ever defied Uzmir's orders, but this time, he had to find a way to get word to Ardeth. Shortly after last speaking with Uzmir, word had come a second time in little over a day from Shunnar and various other tribes, reaffirming their lack of knowledge of Ardeth's location in the desert. This was too much for Quadamah. Now that the Songhoi were involved with Zouhir, the threat was even the more deadly. He knew he had to do the unspeakable and defy his commander.  
  
Slipping quietly through the outskirts of Cairo with the stealth inbred into the elite tribe through thousands of generations, he now was alone; skilled, but vulnerable at the same time. He was a lone man, with a quest of his own design.  
  
He had carefully gone over the facts of Ardeth's trek, supplied by Shunnar in his last message. Ardeth was heading for Cairo to meet the O'Connell's, but had never arrived. It should have taken no more than a couple days traveling alone.  
  
The harsh life of the Medjai and knowledge of survival from the years of his training since a very young age; Quadamah knew every inch of the desert for hundreds of miles. Coming North to Cairo, from the location last divulged of Ardeth's whereabouts, Quadamah knew that Ardeth wouldn't have had enough water to last him the entire journey. Yes, there were some small underground springs in several rock formations deep in the desert that were only known to the Medjai. But somehow, relying on his own instincts, despite his young age, something told him that Ardeth had journeyed East to the small oasis that lay not too distant from where the route of his trek had been laid.  
  
Quadamah sat on his horse in the shimmering moonlight, immersed in thought. Now he had betrayed his commander's authority, and would have to pay for it. Would the end justify the means? He could only hope and pray that it did. For if Ardeth was not there, there was no telling what punishment awaited his insubordination. Uzmir was an excellent commander and had always followed orders, and generally the outcome of every altercation they had been involved in had ended in the Medjai's favor. But Uzmir had one major fault; he never followed his gut instincts. Quadamah, on the other hand, always had been bothered by those instincts that had invaded his senses, but most of them had proven to be correct. Deep in his heart, he knew he was right about this decision and where Ardeth must be.  
  
Swiftly making his final decision, he spurred his horse towards an eastwardly direction and headed out into the desert night, thinking no more of what judgment would pass.  
  
The passage of time had no effect on his efforts to get to his destination. Quadamah had gone for many miles, countless, it seemed. It was still dark, and under the cover of night, one could travel undetected quite easily. But unbeknownst to him, watchful eyes, keen as a hawk's, had been bearing down upon him for quite some time. Eyes as black as the night itself, but not as black as the heart that beat inside the man's chest.  
  
Curling lips smiled at the lone Medjai. The watcher knew that this was a 'true' Medjai, as no one had been dispatched to travel in that direction since some members of his tribe had been ordered East, for the interception and inevitable capture of the Medjai King and his comrades. Now it seemed all too easy a kill for the bloodlust that flowed through his veins. A quick and easy kill wouldn't quench his thirst; he knew that already. First he would toy with this brave warrior for a while, and let him think that he had gone undetected. Then when the time was right, he would strike, and send this mindless fool into oblivion. But before the warrior would meet his end, he would suffer untold agony. It was the only way that would satiate his own lust for torment and the spilling of blood.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
In the bitter cold of the desert night, Cairo was quiet, but those at the warehouse did not sleep. There was much to do, and soon they were to depart. But first, Uzmir asked Quadir to do one great favor for him, one that would be endearing to his heart as well as to the heart of Ardeth Bey. He had asked Quadir to accompany him to the house where Bahir lay near death's door.  
  
Uzmir had been informed quite frequently of Bahir's continually deteriorating condition. He knew of Ardeth's deep affection for the young man and that his wife was with child. Uzmir's heart had gone out to the young Medjai, and had prayed incessantly for an answer. When he had heard that Quadir had accompanied the London Medjai on the cruise boat that would arrive at Cairo, his heart leapt with joy, despite the grave situation they were facing. Deep inside, he knew that Allah was answering his prayers, as he knew that there was no one who could help Bahir in Cairo. Not allowing any room for doubt to cloud his mind, or his faith in Allah, he knew that Quadir would arrive in time to see Bahir.  
  
The two men walked silently along the deserted streets. With a sense of urgency, they headed for the street where the house stood. A dim glow emanated from several windows of the house, which belonged to one of the Cairo healers; the house where Bahir lay dying.  
  
Iskandar had worked tirelessly to curb the fever that ravaged Bahir's weakened body. From many years of experience, the healer knew that the battle waging inside Bahir was near a close. Never once did the fever subside. It had lessened in intensity, but stubbornly would cling to his debilitated body. All the herbs used to treat severe wounds and the poultices applied, refused to eradicate the fever or fight the hideous infection that had taken hold of him from the moment the wound was inflicted. Realizing that the dagger must have had some grave poison on it, Iskandar had exhausted all efforts to identify the source of the poison, but to no avail. Whatever it was, it had no cure. Every source of poison known to the Medjai, passed down from countless generations, could not identify this deadly substance.  
  
Uzmir knocked lightly on the front door and was greeted by an elderly woman of Medjai origin. Her weathered face showed the strain of much hardship and stress. But her eyes spoke another story, one of warmth and a generous love and compassion of all. She beckoned them in and led them into the front waiting room.  
  
Uzmir had introduced Quadir to Hooriya, and the warmth of her smile was contagious. She beckoned for them to sit and make themselves comfortable.  
  
"Please, sit down, I will get you some tea," implored the elderly woman.  
  
"Thank you, but we must refuse your gracious offer. We need to see Bahir," Uzmir replied.  
  
Hooriya stood firmly planted to the spot she occupied and studied both men intently. She knew how desperate the young man's situation was, but these men had been in a horrendous battle shortly before. Word generally spread fast between Medjai families and their contacts in Cairo, and she had already heard of their victory at the warehouse. These men needed some form of nourishment and to sit for a few moments to rest their weary bodies.  
  
Her name, Hooriya, meant 'angel' in Arabic. And an angel of kindness she was to all who were in need. An angel of mercy, who had tirelessly tended to the many Medjai warriors who had been brought through their door. Countless hours she had spent with the young Medjai, Bahir, bathing his feverish face and body and tending his mortal wound. All that could be done, had been. The poison and fever were out of control and she and Iskandar had exhausted all measures to help him fight the onslaught of infection and poison. Now it was just a matter of time before Bahir would die. Hooriya had prayed for the young man as intensely as she had tended his physical needs. She had prayed to Allah for the healing of this brave young warrior whose life was slipping ever so slowly into oblivion.  
  
That was what had Hooriya and Iskandar baffled. Bahir should have died long before now. But he was still clinging to the fine threads of mortality. Maybe it was because he longed to return to his wife and see his first child born. That was the general conclusion of both Hooriya and the Healer because Bahir kept calling his wife's name over and over in his feverish throes.  
  
Hooriya shook her head at the two men, indicating that she wouldn't bring them to Bahir until she had tended to the their needs first. Both Uzmir and Quadir smiled at her stubborn reply. The Medjai women were well known for their beauty and sturdy resilience to the harsh life they had to live. Unfortunately, some were also known for their stubbornness, but not without due cause. The Medjai women were very protective of their men, and would do anything in their power to ensure their survival.  
  
"No, first, you must refresh yourselves. You both have been through much physical and mental anguish. He has been in a deep sleep, but should he wake, it would be best that you are able to understand what he says. The delirium is severe, most of the time it is very difficult to understand him. So, please rest for at least a few minutes, and then I will take you back to see him," Hooriya insisted.  
  
Relinquishing to the elderly woman's request, the old friends sat down and watched as she determinedly moved her limping form towards the kitchen to get their tea. Returning, she brought not only tea, but also a light meal she knew they needed for the strength they lost during the battle.  
  
The two smiled and Quadir shook his head in amazement at how persistent the old woman was. She stood before them and wouldn't leave until they both ate a reasonable amount. Finally satisfied at the amount consumed, Hooriya beckoned them to follow her down a dimly lit hallway.  
  
Hooriya stopped before a closed door. Uzmir and Quadir watched her head bow slightly before turning the knob. They both could sense the strain she was under. She opened the door and the aromatic scent of herbs and concoctions wafted through the air.  
  
Uzmir could see the healer working on the still form, and he stopped at the foot of the bed. The young Medjai lay still and lifeless. The only indication of life within him was the slow, shallow, irregular breaths. The healer looked at the two men and shook his head in frustration. He relinquished his spot to the tall Medjai who had walked around to the opposite side of the bed.  
  
The healer stepped back, wondering if this man was a healer as well. He was Medjai, there was no doubt of it, but more than this, he had a peaceful calm about him.  
  
Quadir looked intently at Bahir, noticing the extreme pallor and shallow breathing. He could tell that Bahir was in an herb-induced sleep now. He sat on the bed beside the young warrior and gently felt his forehead and cheeks. They were hot and dry to the touch. The fever raging through his body was great. Pulling down the light blanket, Quadir turned Bahir a little farther on his side and could see the damage inflicted upon his body. The wound in his back as well as the surrounding area was swollen and angry in color. Bahir's agony was evident even in his deep sleep as Quadir gently touched the surrounding flesh.  
  
The healer walked over to Uzmir, his eyes reflecting many unspoken questions.  
  
"Iskandar, this is Quadir, commander of the London Medjai. He and two of our London brothers were instrumental in the capture of our enemy," Uzmir said.  
  
"Were we successful in getting all of the enemy in the city?" Iskandar asked hopefully.  
  
"Yes, Allah be praised," Uzmir replied. "But there was an unforeseen enemy that we encountered which has escalated the overall problem to a serious magnitude."  
  
"Which is?" queried Iskandar. "I could see in your countenance that there was something weighing heavily on your mind when you entered the room. I knew you were worried about Bashir, but somehow, I knew it wasn't exactly about him."  
  
"The Songhoi are involved and are great in number in the desert," Uzmir told him. "I fear for Ardeth and what he must face. I hope that we are able to get to him before the Songhoi do. We must be as strong a force as possible to battle against them. A reliable source estimates them to be over two thousand in strength."  
  
Iskandar looked stunned for a moment. Never in a thousand years had there been a battle with the Songhoi of this magnitude. Many tribes would have to band together in order to fight these warriors on such a large-scale battle. They were vicious and relentless in their pursuit of blood. Knowing what they were to face, and the aftermath thereof, sent shivers throughout Iskandar's body. Many warriors would be wounded in this battle; many would never leave the battleground. How many young lives would be snuffed out, much too early?  
  
Iskandar made up his mind quickly. He would accompany Uzmir into the desert. It had been many years since he had journeyed into the heart of Medjai country. Deep down, he had missed the people and the culture he grew up in. It was a way of life that was indescribable and quite fulfilling. The twelve tribes of the Medjai were tightly knit and dedicated to the livelihood of each other.  
  
Grimacing at the pain he was unwillingly inflicting, Quadir looked at Uzmir and the Healer. All too familiar with injury and pain, he turned his eyes back to rest upon the stricken warrior. Bahir was beginning to rouse, and began to speak in his delirious state.  
  
Quadir moved closer, as did Uzmir and the Healer. Over and over, Bahir called out to someone. It was inaudible, but they continued to listen to him, hoping to get a vague understanding. Eventually, the strained voice became clearer. Bahir opened his eyes, staring into an unseen parallel dimension. He was being tormented by a horrible nightmare, but as Uzmir listened closely, he nodded his understanding. It was not just a wicked nightmare his fevered brain was succumbing to, but a real event. He was reliving a horrendous event that would forever live in the depths of his soul.  
  
~ ~ ~ ~  
  
They were riding for days, searching for evidence. Akhtar Bey had disappeared in the night. His horse and saddle were missing, so they all knew that Akhtar had gone on some mission of his own accord. But where? There was a note, which in words were few, but the message content was great. It was addressed to Akhtar's wife.  
  
'I must stop them, stop it from happening. They will not take the life of our son. This, I cannot allow. Trust my judgment. No matter what the outcome, I will always love you, habibi.'  
  
Their village had been located at the Great Oasis for several years running. When their tribe first came to live there, Bahir, Ardeth and Shariyf were but boys of ten. Now, they were young men of seventeen and well on their way to becoming finely skilled warriors. Ardeth and his friends had been on guard duty with the watch group at Hamunaptra when word came of his father's abrupt disappearance.  
  
Many times did Akhtar Bey have to leave on missions with less than a few moments notice, but no one had ever heard of him to leave in this manner. Surely, he would have informed his wife, as his honored second was on guard duty at the time. Frantic and beside herself, Ardeth's mother knew not where her beloved husband had gone, nor what influence had forced his hand to protect the life of his son, Ardeth. All her hopes rested on the Medjai reaching Akhtar before he confronted the enemy.  
  
Warrior guards were posted around the tents housing the Bey's. No member of the family was to go unescorted into the oasis or anywhere, for that matter, with less than five guards. No chances were to be taken. These were the orders of Yushua Bey. If his intuitions were correct, no member of the Bey family was safe. As for Akhtar, Yushua knew that he was helpless to assist. But he would protect Ardeth, and his siblings, as well as the rest of the Bey clan at all costs.  
  
But when word had reached Yushua that Ardeth had gone alone to search for his father, untold anguish greeted his aged heart. The young man who Yushua knew had a 'special calling' above any other Medjai since the very origin of their race, was entering into a realm of peril unparalleled to anything the boy had experienced yet. His grandson was not ready for a confrontation of such levels; Ardeth's training had not yet delved that deeply, and the cost of his life was too much for Yushua to bear.  
  
Word had arrived at Hamunaptra concerning the disappearance of Akhtar, and to protect Ardeth at all costs. Ardeth was confused as to what was going on, as the rider who had arrived knew no more. Ardeth, due to his youthful, impetuous nature, leapt on his horse without a word, and it towards home, leaving his friends and the other warriors standing dumbfounded in a huge wake of sand.  
  
Home was at a much farther distance since they lived on the outskirts of the Great Oasis. This had no effect on Ardeth or his thoughts as he rode hard through the night. Where was his father? Why had his father left abruptly to protect him? Who was after him, that his father was going to stop? Urged on by the need to find his father, Ardeth rode relentlessly through the night. His horse was on the verse of collapse, but Ardeth couldn't see or think clearly about anything other than finding his father. If he, himself, were in danger; then whoever his father was going to intercept would definitely have the advantage over his father. Akhtar had never made a rash decision in all the time Ardeth could remember. Obviously, the fact that someone was after his own flesh and blood had deterred his rational train of thought. That deterrence may very well cost Akhtar his life.  
  
Even at the tender age of seventeen, despite his impetuous nature, Ardeth was wise beyond his years. His quick thinking had already turned the tide on several encounters and he knew that his decision was right. Surely, he should have waited for the others, but couldn't. Every moment counted. His father was obviously and willfully walking into a trap to save his firstborn son. Guilt and fear had accosted Ardeth's heart the moment he heard the messenger speak. He couldn't let his father do this, not for him.  
  
Search parties had been sent out from the village in all directions to find the destination of their leader. A sandstorm of monumental proportions had hit miles and miles of desert surrounding the village. All evidence that would have shed light upon the direction Akhtar had taken, were obliterated. Now, they had no recourse but to split up into small groups and head off in various directions. The messenger had arrived back at the village and told how Ardeth had abruptly left, and that several of the warriors as well as the two young friends of Ardeth were in hot pursuit following Ardeth deep in the desert.  
  
Yushua and Hydar were grateful of the news that the other warriors were pursuing Ardeth. But it still didn't stifle the emotional turmoil flowing through them in their thoughts concerning Akhtar. Deep down, they knew who was behind this. Equally, they prayed that Akhtar and Ardeth would overcome their predator-like adversary.  
  
~ ~ ~ ~  
  
Uzmir and Iskandar watched how Quadir studied the stricken warrior. Quadir's demeanor was one of great concern and conviction.  
  
"Commander Quadir, is he a Healer?" Iskandar asked Uzmir.  
  
"Very much so," Uzmir responded. "But a Healer not in the traditional sense. His healing comes from Allah, if it is His will."  
  
"He is a Christian Healer, then?" Iskandar answered his own question. "I have heard of special healing powers that have been bestowed upon a select few of the Christian faith. It is an honor to have Quadir's presence among us. I pray to Allah that he is allowed to heal this young warrior. Bahir is a good man. I have heard much about him since he was brought to us. His life has been filled with honorable acts and dedication to his people and those in need and to Allah, above all else."  
  
Iskandar began to speak, once again. But this time, Uzmir stared and marveled at Iskandar and the diversity in understanding and acceptance of the Christian faith.  
  
  
  
'And by the hands of the apostles were many signs and wonders wrought among the people; (and they were all with one accord in Solomon's porch.  
  
And of the rest dare no man join himself to them: but the people magnified them.  
  
And believers were the more added to the Lord, multitudes both of men and women.)  
  
Insomuch that they brought forth the sick into the streets, and laid them on beds or couches, that at the least the shadow of Peter passing by might overshadow some of them.  
  
There came also a multitude out of the cities round about unto Jerusalem, bringing sick folks, and them which were vexed with unclean spirits: and they were healed every one.'  
  
  
  
"Acts, Chapter 5, verses 12-16," Iskandar replied in answer to Uzmir's amazed expression. "I am fully aware of the divine gifts given to men from all walks of life."  
  
  
  
'Bless the Lord, O my soul: and all that is within me, bless His holy name.  
  
Bless the Lord, O my soul, and forget not all His benefits:  
  
Who forgiveth all thine iniquities; who healeth all thy diseases;  
  
Who redeemeth thy life from destruction; who crowneth thee with lovingkindness and tender mercies;  
  
Who satisfieth thy mouth with good things; so that thy youth is renewed like the eagle's.  
  
The Lord executeth righteousness and judgment for all that are oppressed.  
  
He made known His ways unto Moses, His acts unto the children of Israel.  
  
The Lord is merciful and gracious, slow to anger, and plenteous in mercy.  
  
He will not always chide: neither will He keep His anger forever.  
  
He hath not dealt with us after our sins; nor rewarded us according to our iniquities.  
  
For as the heaven is high above the earth, so great is His mercy toward them that fear Him.  
  
As far as the east is from the west, so far hath He removed our transgressions from us.  
  
Like as a father pitieth his children, so the Lord pitieth them that revere Him.  
  
For He knoweth our frame: He remembereth that we are dust.  
  
As for man, his days are as grass; as a flower of the field, so he flourisheth.  
  
For the wind passeth over it, and it is gone; and the place thereof shall know it no more.  
  
But the mercy of the Lord is from everlasting to everlasting upon them that fear Him, and His righteousness unto children's children; to such as keep His covenant, and to those that remember His commandments to do them.'  
  
  
  
"Psalm 103, verses 1-18," Uzmir responded to Iskandar's recital.  
  
Iskandar nodded his concurrence and looked over at Quadir, as he began to speak, adding one more scripture verse.  
  
  
  
'God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble.  
  
Therefore, will not we fear, though the earth be removed, and though the mountains be carried into the midst of the sea:'  
  
  
  
"Psalm 46, verses 1-2," replied Quadir. "My favorite scripture verse is Psalm 46, verse 10."  
  
  
  
'Be still, and know that I am God: I will be exalted among the heathen, I will be exalted in the earth.'  
  
  
  
With this said, Quadir turned to face the stricken young warrior once again. Uzmir gently grabbed a hold of his arm.  
  
"Quadir, can you help him?" he asked.  
  
"I myself can do nothing. But if it is God's will, then it shall come to be," said Quadir.  
  
Quadir knelt down beside the young man. He looked up at Uzmir and Iskandar and they both knelt on the opposite side of the bed in reverence to the healing power of God, and in the knowledge that Bahir was in good hands.  
  
Quadir prayed incessantly as he laid his hands upon the young man whose body was tormented by the deadly poison and spreading infection. Incredible warmth filled the room. Quadir felt the presence of another next to him and turned to see that Hooriya had knelt beside him. Quadir continued to pray and took out a small bottle of oil. He anointed Bahir's forehead, and finished his prayer for the healing of the dying man before him.  
  
Suddenly, Hooriya looked up into the face of Quadir. She had been holding Bahir's left hand, which radiated the raging fever that was evident throughout his body. As if it had never existed, the fever diminished, and was completely gone.  
  
Bahir started to regain consciousness. No longer delirious, his eyes no longer glazed over with fever, he stared at the four kneeling forms around his bed. Still a little disoriented, he wondered where he was and what he was doing here.  
  
His memory began to clear rapidly now, and remembered that he had been severely injured with a dagger and had been brought to a healer's home. He remembered the faces of Hooriya and Iskandar as they had worked on him after his arrival. Bahir's memory was only bits and pieces of a puzzle that he was having difficulty connecting. 'Strange', he thought, his body didn't hurt anymore. Reaching a hand around to his back, he could not find a wound. This baffled him even more. He remembered the fight at the O'Connell's estate, how he had spun Evelyn around and out of harms way to take the dagger himself. 'What is going on?' Bahir thought. He felt quite well, and a refreshing strength pervaded his body.  
  
Bahir sat up and Hooriya immediately grabbed his arm to get him to lay back. He smiled, and gently patted her hand. He wanted some answers.  
  
"Bahir, welcome back, my young friend," Uzmir said, smiling.  
  
"I don't understand," stated Bahir. "Not that I'm not happy that it is over, but the last I remember, I was dying. Now I am healed."  
  
"Bahir, it is my honor to introduce you to Quadir," Uzmir said, gesturing to his smiling friend. 


	16. Endless Love Chapter 16

**_First and foremost, to all my wonderful readers, I'd like to wish you a most blessed and safe Christmas.  And to us all, let us all be ever reminded of the true meaning of Christmas.  I personally make a 'Happy Birthday Jesus cake' each year.  It is a tradition I started with my sons, and it's my little way of reminding my children the true meaning of Christmas amidst the toys and computer gadgets._**

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**_To all my wonderful readers, as usual thanks for taking the time to read and review my work.  I appreciate all the input I receive, even if it is critical.  We can all learn something new or put something into a different line of view.  So, my thanks._**

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**_To my newest reader, Kit Thespian...welcome!  I am so glad to receive the input from you.  I love your stories, and am honored that you decided to read mine._**

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**_Chapter 1:  Thanks for the wonderful compliment.  I'm glad that are enjoying it!_**

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**_Chapter 2:  Nope, didn't watch Gladiator before I wrote it but I know what you are talking about.  It just happens to be my morbid sense of angst in overdrive...lol.  Concerning the new girl...hmmm...that would be Hayat, the girl you will be seeing become his new wife years later and bring happiness to that horribly broken heart (*sniff*, just gives you the urge to give that gorgeous guy a comforting hug and kiss, huh?).   Concerning the enemy, well, Zouhir was a former Medjai who now loathes their very existence and is hell-bent on killing any person who a 'certain Medjai' loves._**

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**_Chapter 3:  Yep, that would be Zouhir's son...our sad, quiet Medjai, Abdul.  I know, I feel for the poor guy too, and I created him!  Zouhir was and still is one sick puppy.  I can't stand the guy but it sure is a lot of fun portraying him.  I love the dark!  Love writing it, because I'm not like that in real life, so it is so much fun doing it, seeing what it's like to be the bad guy!  And wow!  You are from the Deep South too!  Wonderful...I am so glad to hear that we are in the same neck of the woods...lol.  _**

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**_Chapter 4:  Well now, thanks for the compliment!  It was difficult to put Ardeth in this position, humbling himself to his father-in-law.  But then, I figured that Ardeth would do just that sorta thing and especially considering his frame of mind during this time.  Hayat will fit in just fine, but that'll be a long way down the line._**

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**_Chapter 5:  Fremantle is his connection in England.  You see, Zouhir has connections all over the world, always on the search to find any connections to the Medjai, especially Ardeth, because he is taking down his whole family; one by one.  Also, you know that old saying, 'money talks'?  Well, Fremantle loves money, and that's all it took to win him over, considering that he was already a scruz from the get-go._**

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**_Chapter 6:  Faid is one of Zouhir's main men, thugs, whatever you wish to call them.  Actually, he's right under...oops...lol...you haven't read far enough to find out about the 'other' guy yet.  You'll know him when you read about him.  Let's put it this way, he has a penchant for tormenting Abdul-Khaaliq...you watch and see what I mean!  Yep, Shariyf is one of those never-fail friends...one who is always there for Ardeth no matter what.  And thanks again for sparking an interest in this story.  I appreciate your time and reviews more than you know!  I'm looking forward to hearing from you in the future._**

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**_ENDLESS LOVE: THE CONFRONTATION _**

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The grisly scene laid out before them was one that would project fear into the very hearts of the bravest of men.  Never had Rick seen such a group of intimidating looking men.  They had surrounded the clearing, unbeknownst to Rick and Ardeth, waiting and watching the fight that had just taken place.  For a brief moment, as Rick had taken the knife and plunged in into the warrior's abdomen, he felt victorious.  There were only a few of these warriors keeping the women and children subdued.  As he assisted Ardeth up, Rick's mind was set upon the two of them taking out the last ones by the women.  He sincerely hoped that Ardeth was not injured so as not to be able to assist in these animals' demise.

However, Rick received a rude awakening when both he and Ardeth turned and saw what they were truly facing.  Seemingly out of nowhere, a large group of warriors had formed a ring around the group of women and children.  Ardeth and Rick were not in the circle, and were, it seems, given a choice whether to run and let a chase ensue, or relent willingly.

Rick and Ardeth exchanged looks of shock and fear, while trying to fight down the rising nausea that was trying to take them by force.  The ground was littered with the remains of the two Medjai warriors that were left to protect the women and children.  These unexpected adversaries had made sport of the two Medjai.  There was no way to tell who was who; the damage had been so severe.  Both warriors had been brutalized in the most hideous fashion.  Body parts were strewn haphazardly around and blood congealed on the sand.  It was a tragic testament to what had transpired in their absence. 

Ardeth stared at the grisly scene and his heart grew heavy with the knowledge that he had given these men a death sentence by placing them in charge over the women and children.  Scenes of the tortured bodies of Bahiyaa and his daughters flooded his mind.  Ardeth suddenly began to lose his ability to stand under the invasive onslaught of memories of his own private hell. He wondered if his family had actually died by the hands of these men, under Zouhir's command.

Rick, finally getting the nausea under control, turned back to look at Ardeth, wishing his friend hadn't had to see this, after what he'd already been through.  Seeing Ardeth starting to sway, his knees buckling, Rick quickly grabbed a hold of his arm to steady him.

His effort was nearly in vain, as Ardeth's knees gave out anyway.  Quickly, Rick compensated by wrapping an arm around Ardeth's back, desperately trying to hold him up.

Ardeth groaned from exhaustion and the damage done from the warrior who had hoisted him over his shoulders in a most unnatural position.  Searing pain ran up his spine as Rick steadied him on his feet, and he reflexively gasped at the pressure Rick's arm was placing on his spine.  

Ardeth, fighting the physical and emotional pain he was experiencing, shrugged out of Rick's grasp.  Wavering momentarily, he fought back the physical pain.  He needed to be strong in the face of this adversary.  Ardeth knew that any sign of weakness or injury was what these animals wanted to see, and he refused to let them revel in his suffering.

Standing as steady as possible, Ardeth looked at the women and children.  They were cowering under the frightening demeanor of these men.  The evidence of their witnessing the murder of the two warriors was permanently transfixed in their expressions, but all was quiet.  He saw Evy sitting with Shatarra and the young woman whose child had died.  Both Evy and the young woman sat at either side of Shatarra, as if to protect her.  His heart grew heavy once again at the thought of Evy and his mother suffering at the hands of these men.  He feared for _all the women and children.  These men were well known for their murderous nature.  Moreover, they were known for the suffering they loved to inflict before they actually killed the victim.  Anxiety filled his heart for the helpless forms huddled together.  How many more people would die because of him?  Had he served as a catalyst for these women and children's utter demise by taking them to the oasis instead of bringing them to Cairo instead?  A voice brought him out of his self-torment._

"Ardeth?" Rick queried, more than addressed.

Ardeth didn't answer him.

"Ardeth!" Rick snapped, worriedly grasping his arm.

Ardeth turned his gaze slowly to look into the face of the man he loved as a brother.  The new pain in Ardeth's eyes was more than Rick could take.  He was sure he would see indignant hate in them.  But his eyes told a story of a greater agony than they had yet to experience.  For the first time in all the years he had known Ardeth, he saw a hopeless fear reflecting in those eyes.  

Rick was beside himself now.  "What the hell!?  Who are these, these...?" Rick stopped, not knowing the proper words to describe the ring of animals they were facing.

"They are the Songhoi," spat Ardeth, unable to contain his disgust.  He had faced them on several occasions, but had never faced them without a large company of Medjai warriors present.  It was just Rick with him, and Ardeth knew that they would not be able to subdue any of them.  The first two that had attacked them was just a ruse.  It was just their way of coaxing their victims into an impenetrable web of no escape.

Ardeth's thoughts turned to Abdul and Shariyf.  _Where are they? Ardeth's frantic thoughts rambled through his mind.  He wondered if they had fallen prey to these monsters.  Silently, he prayed that they had managed to evade the enemy and would be able to escape the oasis to let Shunnar know of the even greater danger they now faced._

Silence filled the clearing.  The Songhoi had threatened the women and children after they had dismembered the two Medjai warriors; they refused to let their trap be revealed and threatened death to any and all who could not contain their screams.  Smiling, one Songhoi warrior looked down at Hayat, assuring her that there would be a time to scream, but not now.

Stillness, complete stillness accompanied the silence and Ardeth wondered what they should do.  Rick was staring at Evy, fearing for her life.  The hopelessness of the situation was so evident, Rick wondered if _anyone_ would survive.

Suddenly breaking the still silence, one of the warriors began to advance towards Ardeth and Rick.  Immediately, Rick bristled and prepared for a confrontation.  However, the warrior didn't offer Rick so much as a look, but kept his eyes riveted on Ardeth.  Stopping several feet from Ardeth, his eyes glittered with hate and the excitement of a much-anticipated kill.  Without taking his eyes off him, he bowed slightly.  His eyes changed in emotion from one of hate and excitement to one of sardonic mockery.

"I bow before the mighty Medjai King!" he bellowed in a mocking tone.

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Abdul and Shariyf scanned the scene before them in amazed disbelief.  The trek they had taken brought them past the large pond, down the slope leading to the clearing.  They had stopped abruptly, unsure of what to expect.  Now, peering through the bushes into the clearing from a slight distance, they knew their worst fear had come to pass.  In the clearing, stood a circle of very large men surrounding the women and children.  The dismembered bodies of the Medjai left in charge littered the ground.  Sickened at the sight, Shariyf turned back and looked at Abdul. 

Abdul had a hold of the two captives, but his heart wasn't in it.  His eyes beheld the gruesome sight and the pain was unbearable.  All of this hideous pain inflicted and death, all because of the man he once knew as father.  Nearing the point where desperation and hopelessness reside, his heart struggled with the last remnants of strength that often will surmount impossible odds, Abdul looked up at Shariyf, grasping for any shred of hope in this situation.  _There had to be a way.  They had to make a way! Abdul thought.___

Shariyf stared into the haunted eyes of his friend.  They both knew what they were facing.  Zouhir; the Songhoi, treachery and deceit, insurmountable odds; the blood of their Medjai brethren staining the sand a deep scarlet.  Where did they go wrong in this? Why hadn't they foreseen the events that had come to be?  Both men toiled over the same thoughts, silently begging each other for some practical answers to the new problem faced.  Never had they faced the Songhoi without a large company of Medjai warriors banded together as one.  There was no way they could succeed with so few in number against a foe who had no honor. 

"This is hopeless, Abdul," Shariyf conceded. "We need to get word to Shunnar about this atrocity and get warnings out to all the tribes.  You must leave and get word to him.  Find him, my friend.  I will stay and do what I must."

Abdul shook his head in a definite 'no' and stared wide-eyed at Shariyf in disbelief.  He understood Shariyf, understood the need for warning the tribes.  But there was no way that he was going to leave Shariyf alone to fight against these merciless dogs.

"Go!" Shariyf hissed. "Go now!  If you choose not to go willingly, then I order you!"

"No," Abdul said, with firm resolve. "If you order me then I willfully disobey that order.  I cannot leave you to this fate.  Not when I know that it is by my blood that it will come to pass.  I will stay, you go.  Perhaps they will not kill me yet as Zouhir was my father."

Shariyf looked incredulously at Abdul, knowing well that he had a point, but then he knew that he couldn't leave Abdul to face this alone as well.  Abdul had suffered too much because of his blood-ties to Zouhir.  Too much suffering through the years, and he wasn't about to allow him to suffer at the hands of the Songhoi.  Roughly shoving Abdul backwards, Shariyf proved his insistence that his order be followed.  Abdul was barely able to regain his balance before falling.  

"Abdul, listen to me," desperately trying to reason with him. "You may be our only chance to get a marginal advantage over Zouhir's newest threat.  You have no choice, my friend."

Abdul sighed in frustration at Shariyf's words.  He didn't want to leave them at the mercy of the Songhoi, for there would be none to be had.  But what small measure of hope would there be with his staying to assist?  There were too many warriors to overcome.  He had to concur with Shariyf on the fact that one of them had to get help from Shunnar and his warriors, if there was to be any hope to be had.  Now realizing that he hadn't seen Ardeth and Rick in the clearing, he turned to look back, hoping they had eluded the enemy.

"Where are Ardeth and Rick?" Abdul asked anxiously. "I cannot see them.  It is possible they evaded the trap."

Shariyf sighed, not wanting for Abdul to suffer anymore, but nevertheless pointed to the group in the clearing.

"Ardeth and Rick are with them on the left.  Abdul, look over to the right of the very tall plants. They are over there.  A Songhoi is walking over to them now," Shariyf said apprehensively. 

Both Abdul and Shariyf watched in fearful anticipation of what was to pass as the Songhoi walked past Rick and up to Ardeth.

"Surely, they won't kill them," Abdul hissed, terror lacing his voice. "They will be taking the pleasure from Zouhir."

"No my friend, they won't," sighed Abdul, ruefully. "But I'm afraid that Ardeth may sincerely wish for death, before it is his to embrace."   

Abdul stared at Shariyf, absorbing the words spoken, wishing for it all to be a terrible nightmare.  He turned, facing the two men they had left ignored momentarily.  It had surprised both Abdul and Shariyf that both of them were still standing in the very spot they had left them.  Abdul glared at his personal antagonist, wishing nothing more than to take out his pent-up frustrations and anger on him.

The man stared at him, an air of self-aggrandizement settled on his features, in the assurance of their impending victory.  That was all Abdul had to see, he didn't know how or when he actually decided to make the move; nor did he care.

Shariyf had turned momentarily to look back at the clearing when he abruptly heard an altercation begin behind him.  Quickly turning around, he saw Abdul with the man they both sincerely loathed.  Clearly, Abdul had lost his senses, as this would undoubtedly bring the Songhoi to an awareness of their presence.

Abdul had thrown the man with great force, landing him against a sturdy but young tree, breaking it with the hard impact.  Abdul's abnormal strength, Shariyf knew, had to be from the great anger he felt inside, forcing itself to the surface, begging to be placated.  Once the man was thrown, Abdul had nearly sailed through the air and immediately began his onslaught of fury as he landed directly on the man, rolling and lashing out violently, raining his anger upon him.  

Suddenly, the other man held captive decided to attack Abdul from behind.  Pulling a long dagger from the inside of one boot, he aimed it at Abdul's turned back.  To which, Shariyf quickly and without a second thought, dispatched his scimitar slicing through the air, impaling the man to a neighboring tree. 

Hurriedly, Shariyf ran to Abdul and his adversary as they continued to roll on the ground, desperately looking for a way to break them up.  Abdul rolled on top, to which Shariyf quickly grabbed an arm, jerking back with force to separate them. 

Immediately, Shariyf regretted the abrupt move, as he went sprawling to the ground, a fist to his jaw, to Abdul's credit.  Abdul stood over him, wide-eyed and crazed, seemingly unable to discern who was friend or foe at the moment.  

Abdul shifted his glittering eyes to an area behind Shariyf's supine form.  Shariyf immediately jumped up, ready for a confrontation from the rear.  Closing his eyes in concession, he knew that there would be no more chance for him to dispatch Abdul to Shunnar for help.  All his hopes died right there, as a group of the bloodthirsty warriors stood watching their little sparring match.  But both Abdul and Shariyf, despite the hopelessness they mutually felt, wouldn't give up without a fight.

One warrior stepped menacingly forward to attack, then two, until they had formed an ever-shrinking circle around Abdul and Shariyf.  The two stood at each other's back, guarding the other.  The circle continued to diminish as the warriors encroached into their space.  Scimitars clashed with a spectacular force.  Blood bathed the ground, as Abdul and Shariyf took down two warriors with swift and efficient proficiency.  The other warriors converged upon them before they could recoup, beating the two mercilessly to the ground.

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The warrior stood before Ardeth and continued to focus his attention upon him.  He could hear the confrontation taking place, but never took his eyes off his focused target.  He would take great pleasure in the torment he would inflict upon the Medjai King.  He had waited for it, lived for this moment, and now, it was at hand.  Yes, he would deliver the great king to Zouhir, but he would honor only one demand that Zouhir had made; the demand that the king and those who he loved would be delivered alive.  However, that did not mean that they had to be delivered whole.  They were his possessions now, to be toyed with, tortured, maimed.  

The bloodlust shone in his eyes, as he listened to the sound of his warriors approaching with their new prey.  The scent of fresh blood wafted on the hot breeze, and it inflamed his senses.  He knew his warriors had used their skills very well, as the two captive Medjai were thrown harshly to the ground at his feet.  Smiling at the sight of the severely battered Medjai, he looked at Ardeth once more, exuding an air of great satisfaction, as the great king bristled with indignant hate glaring in his eyes.

Ardeth looked down at Shariyf and Abdul, face down on the sand, bleeding badly from the beating they had endured.  The reflection of his eyes changed from one of hate to insufferable sadness.  Slowly, he knelt down between his prone friends.  His mind and body, both tortured beyond the limits of any mortal being, fought for dominance over the dual agony he was subject to.  Ardeth reached out and touched Abdul's throat and found him to be alive.  He then reached for Shariyf, who was stirring slightly.  Shariyf turned slightly and looked up through a blood-soaked haze into the pain-filled eyes of his friend.

"I am so sorry Ardeth," Shariyf rasped. "I failed you, couldn't get the help we..." his voice faltered as he bowed his head in defeat and weakness from the blood loss.  

"You did not fail, my friend," Ardeth said in earnest, gently grabbing his friend's shoulder.  "_I_ did."

Even though he knew it would be a sign of weakness in the eyes of their enemy, Ardeth had great difficulty restraining the tears that began to pool in his eyes.  Gently, Ardeth tried to staunch the flow of blood from the swollen gash wound over Shariyf's left eye.  The blood refused to be restrained and Ardeth put firmer pressure upon the wound, silently praying it would stop the profuse bleeding.

All the while, Rick stood, his face transfixed with a look of sheer horror.  The beating Shariyf and Abdul had taken was brutal.  Their robes had been horribly torn in the attack, showing even more wounds that had been inflicted.  He watched Ardeth as he tried to staunch the blood flow, but to no avail.  He saw panic flicker in Ardeth's eyes, as he applied firmer pressure.  Rick bent down and assisted Ardeth despite the surrounding enemy.  Rick motioned to Ardeth to look to Abdul while he tended to Shariyf.

Abdul had taken the worst beating of the two; there was no doubt of that.  When Ardeth turned Abdul over, he groaned in pain.  The front of his robe and the sand beneath was saturated with his blood.  His eyes flittered open and he gasped in pain with each breath taken.  Carefully, Ardeth moved the tattered fragments of his robe to assess the damage.  Knife wounds, countless cuts had been carved on his chest and abdomen.  Ardeth hissed at the sight of the grisly wounds.  They were not in themselves deadly, but ones that carried great pain.

Ardeth tried to apply pressure to the extensive wounds to curtail the blood flow, but became aware of mocking laughter.  Looking up, he could see the Songhoi warrior still standing in the same position, laughter escaping from those offending lips; his facial expression reflecting a sickening appreciation of the sight.  Ardeth looked to Rick, whose expression had changed from one of desperation to severe annoyance.  Weakness and acute pain didn't stop Ardeth from rising to confront this warrior.  An iron will and determination fought for control over the offending contenders, and was victorious.  They had tortured his warriors, his friends.  He could not let this go unpunished, even if it meant his life be forfeit.

The Songhoi smiled once gain, in sincere admiration to the king's endurance.  He would test that endurance and bring the Medjai king to his knees. 

Unaware of the presence of Abdul's antagonist; Ardeth's eyes caught movement from behind the Songhoi.  The man stepped forward and smiled down at Abdul at first, but his smile turned into a frown when he saw his condition.  Quickly, he spun around to face the Songhoi warrior.

"Abdul was _not_ to be attacked in such a manner.  You knew this!  He was only to be subdued with enough force to bring him into captivity, not to appease your bloodlust.  Zouhir will have your head for this!" the antagonist snarled.

The warrior seemed unconcerned at his chastisement as he completely ignored the man's threatening comments.

The antagonist dropped quickly to his knees to staunch Abdul's blood flow, unaware of Ardeth's questioning eyes.  

"Why?  Does Zouhir wish for Abdul to join him?  Does he even think that Abdul would drop to that lowly state?  I think not!  Abdul is an honorable man, unlike his father!" Ardeth snapped.

"It is not for you to know as of now, but you will be enlightened once we reach the caverns, mighty king." the man snarled, continuing his ministration on the semi-conscious Abdul.

Ardeth stared at the man, wanting to shove him away from his friend, not wanting him to taint Abdul with his touch.  Reflexively, he reached down to push away the defiled hands of the man but was unaware of the attack that was to commence at his sudden move.

A hard kick to the head sent Ardeth sprawling on the ground.  Rick jumped up to defend his friend, but was immediately subdued by several warriors from the circle.  Struggling against the hands that held him captive, Rick lost all rational thought, as he was forced to watch the newest wave of cruelty to assault them when a warrior jerked his head in the line of view where Ardeth lay on the ground.  

Ardeth struggled to get to his feet as the warrior approached him once more.  The warrior jerked Ardeth up by the hair, heaving him into the clearing.  Rolling from the impact, he was nearer to the frightened women and children now.

Through a stunned haze, he heard weeping.  One of the women was crying.  The voice sounded ever so familiar, but his battered senses were unable to recognize it.  Looking up, through rivulets of blood from the head wound, he recognized the sound.  It was Shatarra, weeping at the sight of her son being brutalized.  She could not contain the crying that the Songhoi had threatened against earlier.  But now, the warriors didn't care, as the trap had worked effectively.  Now the time for weeping was at hand.

Ardeth raised a shaky hand; to let his mother know that he was all right, but it was useless as the warrior kicked Ardeth in his unprotected side.  Ardeth gasped with the impact of the kick, only to be kicked over and over in his ribs and abdomen.  Blood came freely from his mouth as his stomach continued to take the offensive kicks.

All the while, his mother's cries continued to increase in intensity and soon seemed to be joined with other women.  Evy and Hayat's cries joined Shatarra's at the brutal sight before them.  Soon, all the women and children's voices could be heard echoing their pain and sorrow.

Rick continued to struggle against his captors to get to Ardeth, but they kept a firm hold on him.  They brought Rick nearer into the clearing, to watch the mismatched battle.

Ardeth didn't have a chance to defend himself to begin with because of the injuries he sustained in the first confrontation.  Now, his senses were assaulted with the newly inflicted pain from the brutal kicks, completely incapacitating him for the time being.  All the while, he could hear the cries of the women.  The cries of his mother. Her cries forced his mind to will his body to react, out of desperation.  Her pain was so profusely demonstrated in her cries that despite his own physical torture, Ardeth kept reaching out to his mother, desperately trying to comfort her in her sorrow.  As he did, it only served as a catalyst for the Songhoi to inflict that much more pain on him.  He lay on the ground, barely conscious now, his own blood seeping in the sand now to join that of his warriors.

The Songhoi began to disperse but remained alert, releasing their vice-like grip on Rick and shoved him forward towards the group.  Several warriors dragged Shariyf and Abdul into the clearing nearer to their captives.

The warrior who had demonstrated his strength and brutality on Ardeth, knelt down, smiling with pride at his handiwork. There would be time for more, but it would have to wait.  The Medjai's damage was considerable and he thought better of it to continue.  He would let his loved ones comfort him for a little while, and then he would prove to be even more merciless.  He had to.  The drive to maim and kill was addictive, and the damage done wouldn't suffice.  He would think of more inventive ways to cause Ardeth pain.

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**_The breeze upon the desert was strong and cool as the moon rose over the distant mountaintops.  Night; how he welcomed it when he was home.  Not on watch duty or another time did he love the night.  At home, in the presence of his beloved wife and daughters, he embraced its coming.  Time alone with his family was the precious moments that some men might take for granted, but to him it was a treasure.  A warmth of true love filled their home; he was a man well blessed._**

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**_He watched as his daughters played at his feet.  Beautiful Alia and Ablaa.  "So much like their mother," he thought as he watched Bahiyaa gather up the dishes of the evening meal.  Knowing that she was being watched, Bahiyaa turned her gaze over her shoulder and gave her husband a knowing look.  He always did it when she was doing the last chore of the day and she craved that look in his eyes.  She lived for it.  Their love would last forever and she could see the future in his eyes.  The happiness of years to come, of many children yet to be conceived, and of growing old together.  _**

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**_Ever the loving father, he told his little girls stories of old and sang sweet songs as he gently rocked them to sleep in his strong, protective arms.  Bahiyaa walked up with a look of joyous appreciation in her eyes at the beautiful sight.  She was richly blessed indeed to have a loving husband so dedicated to the nurturing of their children.  Never breaking his intense gaze, she took Ablaa from his arms and they walked together to place their little girls in their beds.      _**

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**_Tonight, as each night at home, would be theirs to embrace as husband and wife, as tomorrow he would leave to go on watch.  Their union was always more than just a physical union; it was one of hearts and souls as well.   As the night progressed, he watched the moon's glow dance over her features.  How he hated leaving the next morning, leaving the warm embrace that spoke love to him. _**

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**_As the moon made it's decent, beckoning a new day's arrival, he reached over and embraced her once more.  She awoke, gazing into the eyes that spoke unsaid words of love.  Her face lit up with a smile ever bittersweet knowing that shortly she would be seeing him leave once more.   He placed a lingering kiss upon her lips, embracing her in his strong arms until he could not forestall his sworn duty any longer.  He kissed his daughters goodbye as they slept peacefully.  Yes, his duty demanded his absence, to protect mankind from the evil of ancient times, but in essence, he was doing that which would protect the very lives of those he loved.  After all, they were more than worth it.  _**

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**_Ardeth was busy saddling his horse when he noticed Bahiyaa standing there watching him intently.  Sadness was shadowing her face, but her eyes shone with love and pride in the man she proudly called 'husband'.   He knew she would be there; she always was.   He walked his horse over to where she stood as his warriors gathered to ready themselves for the departure.  He reached out for her to come, and she eagerly went to his side.  He bent his head ever so gently, kissing her with a passion and fire that seared it's impression on her lips and heart and embraced her for one last time as his warriors began to mount for their departure.  Each married warrior had done the same with their own wives, and the sadness was carried on the wind following the warriors as the women watched their men ride out of the village.  _**

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**_That night was dark, and all was quiet in the dread city.  But the anguish he felt in his heart was a harbinger of the loss and doom that was to transpire.  He raced through the desert to get back to the village to his loved ones.  Something was wrong, something very wrong._**

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**_Opening the tent flaps, the bodies of his beloved wife and daughters, tortured and maimed, haunted his memories, mockingly.  Never would he be able to embrace the warmth of their touch or see his love mirrored in their eyes again._**

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He was startled awake by the feeling of hands gently caressing his cheek.  Ardeth had been crying in the horror that he had relived, as happened each time he had fallen asleep since that horrible night in their camp.  His eyes reflected the agony he was feeling, still deeply immersed in the after-effects of his nightmare.  The images of his wife and children lingering in his battered brain. Words of comfort and solace were filtering through his senses, bringing him back to the present.

"Shhh, it'll be all right," Shatarra said, not believing or trusting her own words, but saying anything that would comfort her child. "Do not move Ardeth.  Your are badly bruised and I fear you may have some broken bones."

The horrendous pain Ardeth felt brought back remembrance of what had transpired.  He couldn't take a breath without excruciating pain spreading throughout his chest and sides.  Pain permeated throughout his abdomen, the result of the brutal kicks he had fallen victim to.  The pain spreading throughout his back—the result of the attack of the first Songhoi warrior—sent sharp tingling sensations down his hips and legs.  Ardeth was in sheer physical agony, and had no means to dull or escape it.

Focusing his sight on the face of his mother, he attempted a weak smile.  Shatarra gently caressed his face, fighting back the tears.  She needed to be strong for him.  His reason for living had all but been wiped out when his wife and children had been murdered.  His grandfather, his father, brother, sisters, and now his wife and children were gone.  Bahir, his friend, was surely dead from the serious wound he had been the victim of.  Shariyf had been beaten brutally; Abdul had been beaten horribly and carved upon viciously.  All that was left of his family was her, now.  She prayed fervently that he would not have to witness her death, and that Ardeth would survive this horrible suffering.  

"Mother…are you...all right?" Ardeth managed a hoarse whisper. "Did they hurt you?" he continued, flitting his eyes nervously, looking for any signs of injury.

But the one thing he couldn't see that was bruised and slashed beyond comprehension lay deep down inside her chest; her heart.

"Rest assured, my child, I am all right...physically," Shatarra said, partly evading his question.  Her body had been in great pain ever since they had been in the desert from the brutal treatment she had received.  She hoped she could keep it from his keen eyes.

Ardeth could hear voices close by and recognized them.  Rick and Evy were nearby.  Ardeth turned slightly and looked in their direction.  They were tending to Abdul and Shariyf, who had now gained full consciousness.  All four were looking in Ardeth's direction, concern in their faces.  Ardeth was relieved to see both Abdul and Shariyf sitting, but they couldn't hide the pain from him.  It would have been a futile effort on their part, as he could always read through any facade they tried to rise.  Both men were making the effort to move closer to him.  Both men's will was strong and they accomplished the move slowly but surely despite Evy's fretting over them moving around yet.  Flabbergasted at their stubbornness, she stopped trying to prevent their move, but assisted Rick in helping them get closer.  

All four converged at his side and watched him, assessing the severe damage that had been inflicted.  Ardeth knew his mother was on his opposite side, still soothing him with her gentle touch.  He felt warmth in his hand and thought it was his mother who held it.  Squeezing gently, he tried to offer as much comfort to her through the little physical sign.  An upward glance from Evy instinctively made him look to his other side.  It wasn't his mother who held his hand, but Hayat.   She quietly smiled at him, and lowered her eyes in shyness.  Hayat tried to pull her hand out of his, but he wouldn't allow it.  His grasp on her hand held firm and she looked up at him once again, and saw gratefulness in his eyes accompanied by a beautiful smile, despite his great suffering.  

_How beautiful she is, thought Ardeth as he held onto her hand, refusing to let go.  The warmth he felt from that hand was not just physical warmth, but one of gentle assuredness and a genuine love for others.  He couldn't help but smile again at the irony of her projecting the very feeling that he so desperately missed.  For a brief moment, he allowed himself the luxury of being consumed by that very warmth, his soul feeding on it, strengthening him._

He looked around at the rest and noticed that there was a tent surrounding them.  The Songhoi had constructed tents.  That would surely mean that they intended to stay for a day or two at least at the oasis.  Cool water against his lips interrupted his thoughts, and he drank small sips.  Hayat held a cup and had slid her arm under his neck to brace him. _Why am I so taken with this woman? Ardeth's mind questioned. He felt guilty, like he was betraying Bahiyaa by his acceptance of the woman's ministrations.  It bothered him greatly._

Ardeth turned his eyes away from Hayat's and tried to reach up to brush her hand away.  Failing in the attempt, he turned his head in the opposite direction, hoping that she would take the hint.  Ardeth felt her tense at his inner-feelings that were surfacing, and the look in his eyes didn't go unnoticed to her.  She gently but rapidly removed her arm from under his neck, and got up to leave his side.  Ardeth squeezed his eyes shut tightly, realizing that he had offended her, although he knew that she had only been trying to be kind.

Evy, who was still tending to Abdul and Shariyf, took notice of her flight and quickly ran out of the tent to see to her welfare.  She looked around the circle of tents that been erected but couldn't find Hayat.  Evy began to panic, as these warriors took whatever they wished at the slightest whim.  Finally, Evy saw her squatting by the waters edge.  She approached her and gently wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

"Are you all right?" asked Evy. "I know you're upset, but there is so much to be explained yet."

"I don't understand him!  I thought he gained a sense of comfort when I held his hand, but without warning, his eyes changed as if the very touch that was consoling him, suddenly offended him.  I'm so confused.  I did not wish to offend him!" Hayat rambled, totally flabbergasted at Ardeth's reactions.

Hugging her more firmly, Evy looked at the young woman she had befriended and smiled sadly at her. 

"It isn't you, Hayat.  Ardeth has been through some terrible tragedies recently, and, well, his heart is greatly burdened by them.  These warriors are involved with the ones responsible for that very tragedy."

"That is why his eyes hold such a haunted look," Hayat said more than asked. "I remember the look in them when he rescued us.  I've never seen a man react in such a way just because of improper treatment of women and children.  He screamed at the man, dragging him across the sand to our feet and told him to beg our forgiveness.  Ardeth must hold women in high regard.  I mean, he must care deeply for the welfare of women and children.  He will make a wonderful husband and father one day."

"He _was_ a wonderful husband and father," Evy said painfully. "The terrible tragedy I have spoken of was the brutal murders of his wife and two little girls."

The full impact of this knowledge as well as her own son, Jabaal, dying in the desert, weighed so greatly on her weary mind; she broke into uncontrollable weeping.  Evy wrapped her arms around her tightly and both women mourned together.


	17. Endless Love Chapter 17

  
  


_ENDLESS LOVE _

  


_CHAPTER 17_

  


_Whooo...I know it's been a long time since I've updated this story, but much has been going on, and well, that's a very long story. Thanks to all of you for being patient with me and for all the wonderful reviews you so kindly give. _

  


_Marxbros: Thank you for the wonderful review! Yes, I do tend to try and look at the good in everybody, despite our natural tendency to point out the flaws. I'm glad that you liked the dedication to my parents. Yes, they were the most wonderful parent's I could have ever hoped for. I couldn't have chosen better ones if I had been given that opportunity. I was truly blessed as a child to have them, and well, as an adult too. Though they are gone, the beautiful memories of them console me in my loss. I wish that everyone could experience the nurturing love that I was gifted with, but I know that sadly, that is not always the case. I'm glad that you are enjoying my story and thanks for taking the time to read and review it. I appreciate it much and am looking forward to hearing from you again. And yes, I love Hearafter and desperately need to get back to reading it...my apologies!_

  


_Karri: I'm glad that you liked the chapter. Intense? LOL...it's just getting intense now(as you have already seen)and much more trouble is on the horizon. Also, thanks for always being there for me. I appreciate your help, moral support and incredible knowledge plus your unbelievable ability to pull a rabbit out of a top-hat right when I need an answer...Thanks so much! You are just amazing, my friend!!!_

  


_Deana: Yes, that poor boy is hurting like something else! But much more pain and suffering is on the horizon...much more...(don't we just love to make that poor fella suffer?)...well, it adds flavor to the stories, doesn't it? Thanks for all the time listening to me whine, cry and moan...and always, for beta-ing for me. Thanks for the moral support and help you tirelessly give of yourself. God bless you, my friend! You sure do cover a lot of ground, don't you?_

  


_Ruse: Awww! Thanks so much for the wonderful compliments! Geez...I'm blushing still. But I still love your Speak Softly better than my story any day of the week! About the dream sequence...I love doing dream sequences and love to read all of ya'll's dream sequences in your stories. Concerning Hayat, I feel sorry for her...she was a little confused at Ardeth's mixed signals he was sending, but then when Evy explained...well, all will fall into place now, and eventually, she will ease than shredded heart(no girl, it's worse than broken..it's shredded)and he will learn to accept it. But that will be another story....maybe a sequel explaining and delving into their lives together as has already been requested of me by several folks. So, we'll just have to wait and see. Thanks for always being there for me, my friend...and the ideas, and the moral support..._

  


_Patty: Yeah girl, I'm gonna tear your heart out...lol. It hurts so good, huh? I love angsty stories, and well...as long as the end comes out rosey...let's put the boy through the wringer, huh? LOL. Thanks for your wonderful compliments...I appreciate them much! Glad you're enjoying the story._

  


_Anya: Oh now, come on...you're not brutal just because you like angst! I really think that it's our way of getting out the stress we tend to hold inside and well, when we read or write angst, it is some sort of release. Especially if you write it...whoooo...oh yeah...you can feel the stress just flowing out of you. I'm so glad that you are enjoying the story, but it'll be getting more angsty in the next chapter and here on out. And yes, your thoughts on Hayat and Ardeth are correct...yes, they will eventually fall in love and that love will be endless. _

  


_Aulizia: Please don't ever feel like you have to apologize to me. I know what you've been going through, as you know as well what I've been going through. I'm just glad when you can get around to reading the new chapters. And I hope that things are getting a little better for you. I'm glad that you liked the chapter! It's getting a little rougher, and will be continuing to do so from here on out. Yeah, Ardeth's mama's heart is as tortured as her son's body is, maybe even more. Can you imagine seeing your child being treated like that? It would be the most horrible thing I could ever think of. But at least he is a grown man, but nevertheless, he is 'still' her son._

  


_Phewwwww! Finally, I finished with the recognitions and explanations. Yeah, I know...I'm longwinded. But then, I have a lot to be thankful for....all of you! Well, on with the chapter, right? Happy reading!_

  
  
  


The second day of his solitary mission seemed to last forever, as Quadamah made his way across the endless sand dunes. He knew all too well that time was of the essence, and he would be nearing the oasis by nightfall. Several times he thought he had seen a lone follower off in the distance, but each time he that he stopped to check, the distant image would inexplicably disappear. Thinking it to be an optical illusion of some sort—which they all had sometime witnessed in the sweltering desert heat—he made haste to compensate for the time lost.

  
  


Quadamah wasted no time on contemplating the consequences he would face for his actions. He was too deep into the self-made quest and refused to give in to his fearful inner feelings of what would become of him after all was said and done. But nevertheless, the fear gripped his heart like a vice, refusing to relent it's hold.

  
  


Briefly stopping for his horse's benefit, Quadamah dismounted and decided to stretch his legs a bit. Walking up one of the dunes, he surveyed the area for any signs of life, not able to shake the feeling he had had for nearly the entire time of his journey. Someone was there, he was sure of it. He had seen him and felt his presence even from such a great distance, despite the fact he appeared and disappeared as a mirage. Nevertheless, Quadamah's gut instinct told him that he was being followed. Whether it be friend or foe, he did not know.

  
  


Having watered his horse, he sat for a few more moments to rest, sipping the water from his waterskin. His throat was parched and the water, although warm, soothed the raspy dryness. As he replaced the lid, he suddenly heard alarming sounds coming from the desert and was immediately on the alert. His horse was hidden behind a large dune with him, and he stealthily climbing the dune, looking over the top to see what he faced. Nothing but empty desert lay before him. He looked in all directions, but saw nothing at all but endless sand dunes. 

  
  


Quadamah slid back down the sandy slope and made his way back to his horse. Quickly, he mounted and decided that it was best not to wait any longer; he had to get to Ardeth. He had to get word to him of what they faced.

  
  


Quadamah sighed as he ran his fingers through his disheveled hair, quickly picking up his turban. As he replaced it on his head, he suddenly heard the noise again. Jumping off his horse, he climbed the sandy slope once more. Looking over the top, he finally saw what he had been looking for; the presence of other human life in the desert. The one thing that bothered Quadamah so terribly was the fact that these men were but mere owners of human skin, nothing more. They were Songhoi warriors, and a large company of them at that, riding hard and fast towards the Great Oasis. Quadamah remained confident that Uzmir had sent word to Commander Shunnar—who should have arrived at the oasis by now—about the impending threat of the Songhoi. 

  
  


Quadamah made his decision. Despite his impetuous urge to follow, he would not waste time on pursuing the Songhoi, as he was just one warrior against many. Instead, he would continue on his trek to the small oasis in the hopes of catching Ardeth before the Songhoi caught up with him.

  
  


~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

  
  


The lone Songhoi followed the young Medjai as he continued heading towards the small oasis. He smirked at the sight, knowing that the boy had to have seen the large company of his comrades heading towards the Great Oasis deep in the desert. Knowing what awaited the boy at journey's end made him smile with anticipation. He would play the little cat and mouse game with the young Medjai until he reached the oasis, and then would have sport with him and teach him what true terror was. He had already placed claim on this young man's life, and before the group from the oasis left, he would spill the youthful blood to temporarily satiate his unquenchable thirst for violence, which was well overdue. And being Medjai blood made him even the more anxious for the much-anticipated kill. He had waited patiently for this moment; all of the Songhoi had. 

  
  


Dwelling on his inner thoughts, the Songhoi warrior allowed himself a few precious moments to relish thoughts of the upcoming events. Finally, the insidious thoughts of seizing and incapacitating the ranks of Medjai warriors was much too great excitement for he had to keep his thoughts clear as his current prey was still ahead in the distance. He couldn't let this young Medjai get out of his sights.

  
  


Following at a distance, his thoughts began to dwell on the fate of the Medjai King, knowing that by now he should have been subdued as well as those in his company. He longed to see what his comrades had done to the renowned leader. 

  
  


~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

  
  


Uzmir's fury at his young Second's blatant disobedience of orders could not be placated. But beyond that, he was beside himself with worry for the young man he loved as a son. Quadamah, in truth, was an excellent warrior despite his age and Uzmir had trained him since the untimely death of his father. But he was not experienced enough to make such rash decisions. The imminent threat they faced greatly multiplied his fear. No one knew exactly where the Songhoi were in the desert, nor for that matter, exactly how many there were. The Englishman said they were two thousand strong in number, but that was mere hearsay. The seasoned Medjai Commander knew that he could not formulate a plan of action based on word of mouth; he needed facts.

  
  


The ride through the desert seemed interminable as his persistent thoughts of Quadamah's fate weighed heavily on his mind. Uzmir was thankful for the presence of his old friend, Quadir. And now, with Bahir, Ardeth's Honored Second, completely healed, he felt a small measure of added hope to their predicament.

  
  


"Uzmir, my friend, worrying about the boy will not help us find him," Quadir quietly stated, his eyes still focused on the sand dunes ahead.

  
  


He got no response. Uzmir's eyes were filled with anger, but Quadir knew him more thoroughly than anyone else. Thinking that he could hide that very fear from his friend, he kept his eyes averted from him, staring off into another area of the desert.

  
  


Quadir sighed at the pain he knew his friend was going through. He wished he could help him carry the weight of that pain.

  
  


"Uzmir, listen to me," Quadir began, stopping when Uzmir rapidly turned to face him. Quadir could see Uzmir's attempt to hide the fear, which burned brightly in his weary eyes, and his attempt failed miserably.

  
  


"He is very brave," responded Uzmir, relenting to the look in Quadir's eyes. "I will make sure to commend him on his quick thinking, but only after I severely reprimand him for going alone."

  
  


Quadir smiled at that response. "Yes, he is brave. I sincerely hope that he reaches Ardeth before any evil befalls him."

  
  


Their conversation was abruptly curtailed by the sound of galloping hooves. It was dark now, and very hard to distinguish who was approaching them. He was Medjai; it was no doubt, as the dark rider approached from the area scouts had been sent in. As he neared, the figure became more recognizable. Uzmir couldn't help the smile that overtook his worrisome expression. _Bahir, _Uzmir thought. _What a magnificent story there will be to tell, for many generations to come. At death's door one moment, and totally healed the next. All by the will of Allah._

  


  


The young Medjai warrior sat tall and strong in the saddle, never once betraying the emotional distress that was his alone to bear. Ardeth and Shariyf were out in this great desert expanse, but where? Bahir longed to see them and know that they were all right. And more so, he longed to see his lovely wife, Hadiya. He longed to see that she and their unborn child were safe. 

  
  


Deep inside, he sensed that something was terribly wrong with them all. He had always had a connection to them, knowing if something was wrong before words could ever be spoken. Despite the renewed strength he felt from his miraculous healing; his heart weighed heavy with the onslaught of emotional turmoil. Since the very start of their journey back into the desert, his heart was accosted by pain and he prayed for a reprieve so that his mind could function without distraction. He prayed for his wife, child and dear friends, that they would be spared the horrible suffering at these animals' hands. But unfortunately, his heart told him that was not to be.

  
  


Bahir and several of the Cairo warriors had taken scouting positions due south, sweeping across an expanse of desert that took several hours round trip. They had come across a very disturbing sight. The caravan that had been attacked lay directly south of their present position, now an hour's distance away. Uzmir and Quadir were accompanied by Jonathan as they approached Bahir, seeking any new discoveries.

  
  


"Bahir, have you or the others found any evidence to where the Chieftain may be?" Uzmir queried. "Have you found any tracks or evidence that may lead us to discovering their location?" 

  
  


"We found something, that is a surety," Bahir told him. "But not what we had hoped for." He paused, unsure of what the attack on the caravan had played a part in. Surely, if Ardeth had come across the charred remains of the caravan, he would have pursued the attackers. "The remains of a caravan is just due south of our current position. There were no survivors, all the men were brutally murdered," Bahir stated ruefully. "Of course, by now most of the tracks of the attackers have been covered by the shifting sands. We searched in a wide sweep of the perimeter and did see a few sets of tracks which were headed in the direction of the small oasis." 

  
  


"We cannot waste time diverting to the oasis," stated Uzmir. "We need to meet up with Shunnar and the other tribes near the caverns before it's too late."

  
  


"Yes, my friend, but what if Ardeth is at the oasis?" queried Quadir. "He has not been heard from since he and another Medjai left for Cairo. No one has seen him, or heard of his whereabouts. It would seem logical that he could possibly have diverted to the oasis. What do you think, Bahir?"

  
  


Bahir was deep in thought, wondering about the fate of his two dearest friends. They seemed to have disappeared off the face of the earth. Bahir sighed, staring out over the desert expanse in the direction of the small oasis. His gut feeling told him that Ardeth and Shariyf were there. He knew of the importance of meeting up with Shunnar and the other tribes, but wasn't protecting Ardeth and the O'Connell's one of the main objectives of this mission?

  
  


Bahir shook his head, in affirmation to Quadir's question. "Yes, I do feel that it is a strong probability that Ardeth and Shariyf diverted to the oasis. I strongly suggest that we sacrifice those few hours necessary and divert there to make sure. There are too many factors to this whole scenario, and with the Songhoi involved, there is no telling what lies in store for any of us. I say we take the chance and check out any possibilities. No stones left unturned."

  
  


~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

  
  


Jonathan and Alex were quiet for the most of the journey, awed by the orderly fashion in which the Medjai coordinated their collective efforts. Many times Jonathan had seen them in action, but never once did they cease to amaze him with their levelheaded thinking amidst a crisis. Especially due to the fact that three sets of commanders worked together in unimaginable harmony for a common goal with not so much as even a heated disagreement. He surmised without a doubt that the Medjai were as different a race of people from any other on the face of the earth. He could not help the admiration he felt for these brave and dedicated men.

  
  


All the while, Jonathan could feel the piercing gaze of his personal nemesis, Fremantle, boring through his back. Oh! How he had grown to hate that man!

  
  


The Medjai had Fremantle and his accomplices in ropes that were doubly secured to each horse. There was no chance of escape. Jonathan couldn't help himself and looked back at Fremantle. Despite his bonds, a supercilious air still graced his features to Jonathan's utter disdain.

  
  


"What are you looking at?" Fremantle jabbed in an odious tone.

  
  


"I've been trying to figure that out all along, old chap," Jonathan replied with equal arrogance. "The indiscriminate behavior you displayed when you were captured was quite amusing. It showed me just how much of a coward you really are. Giving out any and all information because the mighty Medjai—the men your eminent Zouhir is supposedly going to take down—were breathing down your neck." He smiled. "Meeting them up close and personal is an incredibly frightful experience, isn't it? Actually, if you had noticed, some information you gave had not even 'been' part of the actual questions asked. You gave quite freely of myself, my dear nemesis!"

  
  


"You are all going to die. I do 'so' look forward to witnessing the grand spectacle. And most of all, I look forward to _'your'_demise!" Fremantle sneered.

  
  


"Well, we'll see about that, ole boy!" Jonathan replied. "Don't you know? I mean, are you that blatantly stupid to not realize that in the end, the Medjai _'always' _win?" He queried with a grin and raised eyebrow. "I'm laughing at your superior intellect," he sneered.

  
  


Fremantle was taken aback by Jonathan's attack on his natural superiority. Yes, he 'had' lost his head during the takeover and had divulged the information freely. Without a doubt, he hated pain and knew that the Medjai were an honorable people and would not inflict any if none was necessary. However, that had not been his intentions when he left London. The Medjai of London were formidable, yes, absolutely. But the Medjai of Cairo were more menacing, and the Sahara Medjai were, without a doubt, in a class by themselves. What had gone wrong? How could the tables have been turned in the enemy's favor? Soon, very soon, the tide would turn once again—in 'their' favor.

  
  


Ignoring his adversary for the time being, Jonathan turned his thoughts to what possibilities of danger they faced against the Songhoi. Truly, at first, it seemed that facing Zouhir and his band of vagabonds was going to be hard enough, but with this new threat, the going was definitely going to be much more difficult than first anticipated.

  
  


Jonathan left the relative comfort of his current position of antagonizing Fremantle, and headed up to where Alex had already gone, to trot his horse alongside Bahir. Alex had left for the front as soon as Jonathan had returned from the conversation held when Bahir had approached from the scouting expedition. Now, Alex was engaged in his favorite pastime; bending someone's ear—namely, Bahir's.

  
  


"Ah, Bahir, how are you my friend?" Jonathan asked with a broad smile and hoping to offer him rescue from his precocious nephew.

  
  


"Quite well at the moment, thank you. Alex has many questions about Zouhir and the Songhoi and I have been filling him in to the best of my ability," Bahir smiled back, understanding the reason for Jonathan's interruption.

  
  


Bahir turned his gaze to the western skies to view the sun's rosy prisms dancing across the dunes, heralding that another day had passed and the cold desert night was soon to follow. Jonathan followed Bahir's line of sight and admired the beautiful sunset alongside his friend. But such a striking spectacle as they beheld could do nothing to pierce through the anguish filling both men's hearts. 

  
  


"Bahir, where do you think they could be?" asked an uncharacteristically pensive Jonathan. "Surely, someone should have received word by now?"

  
  


Jonathan continued to stare at Bahir, hoping for a truthful and straightforward answer. Time was slipping by ever so quickly and was definitely the one thing they could not spare. He grew uneasy with Bahir's continued silence. "Bahir?" Jonathan asked, frowning. Bahir turned to look at Jonathan and the look in his eyes spoke volumes. 

  
  


"Jonathan, I fear for their lives more than ever. I know that Zouhir's plan was to have Ardeth and the others brought to the caverns, but then with the Songhoi involved, there is a great chance that they may already be dead," Bahir said sadly. "The Songhoi have never been ones to negotiate or keep their word, for that matter. Even if Zouhir paid them, it would make no difference at all. Their lust for blood is too great. They need to torture and kill to satiate that lust. It is the most important aspect of their entire existence."

  
  


Jonathan stared at Bahir, open-mouthed and quite startled. He had known Bahir many years now, and had never seen him subjected to fear. Especially 'this' type of fear; the fear of the unknown concerning those he loved. Now, he began to understand just how serious the situation had turned and the meaning of Fremantle's sarcastic statement. _What if Evy is already dead? What about Rick and Ardeth? Are they all dead? Or even worse, are they in the hands of those animals, begging for death to claim them? _Jonathan frantically thought. That very notion sickened him, and he was unable to control it as he leaned over and retched on the sand.

  
  


~*~*~*~*~*~*~

  
  
  


Deep in the recesses of the caverns, strode Zouhir. Impatiently, he waited for his long overdue prize, but for the moment his mind was preoccupied with finding the hidden location of ancient Medjai scrolls, sealed off for thousands of years. Once found, he would learn of the ancient secrets that held the Medjai people bondage, and seize hold of its power. Then the mighty Medjai race would be his, to eradicate at his leisure.

  
  


Long ago, he had overheard his own father and Yushua Bay having a discussion concerning the sealed off cave. They had only been able to speculate at what lay behind the sealed entrance, but the King and his Second knew it held great power. That power would be his, he vowed.

  
  


With a deep sigh, his thoughts turned to the Medjai King. He had received word from his men accompanying the Songhoi at the small oasis. Finally, his prize had been captured and would be arriving very soon.

  
  


"All the failures," Zouhir verbalized, while shaking his head. The failures paled in comparison to the joy coursing through him at the knowledge that Ardeth Bey was finally his. Of course, those failures would be duly punished.

  
  


Zouhir knew that before they arrived, the Songhoi would have their way with Bey. Zouhir expected none less; it was their primal nature. A quick and merciful death did nothing to satisfy their bloodlust. Zouhir understood completely; only untold suffering followed by a long, drawn-out death satiated it. But the satisfaction never lasted long, for they were always on the hunt. Hopefully the Songhoi would follow his orders and bring the Medjai King alive and in one piece. If they didn't, then they would pay with their own blood. Ardeth Bey's demise was to be at Zouhir's hand alone.

  
  


The Songhoi's bizarre customs were shrouded in mystery through the passage of time. No one knew the tribal rituals performed or what was involved; those who had the ill misfortune to become their captives were never seen again.

  
  


Zouhir had been interested for many years about their secret rituals, and now that the Songhoi had allied with him, all would be divulged to him in due time.

  
  


A wicked grin crept upon his face with the thought of all the misery Ardeth Bey would be subjected to. "First a grueling lesson from the Songhoi and then, the grand finale! Me!" Zouhir verbalized his thoughts, still wearing the wicked grin. "The mighty King will beg for death and it will not find him until every drop of his renowned will is all but gone."

  
  


Zouhir turned abruptly to the faint mousy voice of one of his messengers. Angered at the intrusion of his thoughts, Zouhir charged at the young man who, in a panicked move, backed himself up against the cave wall.

  
  


"I hope this intrusion is of a profound significance?" Zouhir growled, in disdain.

  
  


The young man, Fahd, was a mere twenty years old and had been sold into slavery as a small child. He had the misfortune to be bought by Zouhir recently and was now forced to work as a messenger. Fahd had never encountered such fearful men, and was afraid to answer Zouhir, as the news received was not favorable.

  
  


"Well, what is so important that you must intrude upon my private thoughts?" Zouhir snarled in Fahd's flinching face. "I'm waiting!" 

  
  


Shaken by fear, Fahd desperately stammered the required message.

  
  


"Ah, my lord, ah, sir," Fahd stumbled over his words. He took a panicked breath and failed in controlling his darting eye movement. Taking another much needed breath he continued. "They all escaped Cairo. The ones from the boat and the Medjai from Cairo and London are en route. There are some Medjai from one of the desert tribes with them as well. But..." Fahd trailed off.

  
  


"But what!?" Zouhir snapped impatiently as he grabbed the front of Fahd's shirt, shaking him violently.

  
  


"The one called Bahir is with them, my lord," Fahd said shakily. "The message is that he lives."

  
  


_Lives_, Zouhir thought, the word rolling over in his mind. "Lives!?" He exclaimed, with a shout.

  
  


Angered beyond all measure, Zouhir threw Fahd hard, to the cave floor. Before the boy had a chance to pick himself up, Zouhir reached down and jerked Fahd to a standing position. Smiling with an evil glint in his eyes, Zouhir, with precision and unmatched skill, slowly, ever so slowly, slid a knife blade's point into Fahd's abdomen. A sickening moist sound accompanied the blade's torturous journey, as it deepened until nothing more than the hilt was visible.

  
  


Fahd, through it all, gasped, wide-eyed as the knife that would claim his life continued to torture him, slicing through his organs; his blood spilling uncontrollably over his murderer's hands. With Zouhir's twisting upward thrust, Fahd cried out in agony. It was the last sound that would ever escape his lips.

  
  


Smiling with a small measure of satisfaction, Zouhir let Fahd's body drop haphazardly to the floor.

  
  


"Now the problems escalate," he growled, in this newfound knowledge of Bahir's recovery.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	18. Endless Love Chapter 18

  
  


_Hello ladies! Ready for a good cry? Pull out those hankies and get ready, cause I've been mean, mean, mean! Well, my hormones were in high gear and I just had to whup up on somebody so what better ones to whup up on than fictional characters, huh? Talk about good therapy! The funny thing though was that even though I was getting my frustrations out, I cried while writing the chapter, so I got kinda sad. Oh well, I went from mad to sad. Better sad I guess. _

  
  


_Karri: Thanks for the awesome compliment! I'm glad that you liked it. Yeah, that chapter took forever to finish but this one came lots faster. Hope you enjoy this chapter which is basically one big ball of angst from the first word to the last...hehehe...I imagine I'm gonna upset someone or other, but well, this is an integral part of the story and yes, Ardeth gets the crap beat out of him, not to mention the others._

  


_Ruse: Cookie cut-outs, huh? LOL...You never cease to amaze me with your descriptions and I loved that one. Zouie mad? Girl, that man has a chip on his shoulder a mile high! I mean, he was cast out of the Medjai and as he sees it, he wasn't to blame. See, he likes being a collector and the Medjai didn't like him having a favorite pastime, so hence, the big chip. Of course, he's a rather 'strange' collector, but hey, it takes all kinds, right? Awww, Imhotepia! You are just too kind! Thanks for the nice compliments, but yes, I definitely prefer Softly any day of the week(I just love Neccy and his bony fingers...drives me insane with them, not to mention his teeth!)LOLOL...I'll sign a copy for you if you sign a copy of yours for me. And yes, I truly hope that we eventually are given publishing rights as well, because I know of some magnificent authors I'd like to see in hardcopy(you, Dee, Catherine, Nancy, Marxbros, just to name a few.)and I know it'd be an awesome collection of writings._

  


_Aulizia: Thanks for the compliment! I'm glad that you liked that 'riveting' chapter. LOLOL...but as that old saying goes, "you ain't seen nothing yet!" and when you read this chapter, you'll know what I'm talking about. Zouhir is a man on a mission of hate and revenge but the Songhoi just love to spill blood for the pure pleasure of it. So, yes, I'd agree that they are more menacing. FYI...did you know that the Songhoi really existed? Yep, that they did! And the credit goes to my buddy Karri for digging up all the info on those bloodthirsty guys._

  


_Deana: You know, I really like Quadamah and feel for the poor guy. But I admire his courage and drive to find his king. I like it when loyalty goes beyond mere words and is reinforced with action. Yeah, Zouhir is one sick puppy and it is so interesting writing him! I mean, I really enjoy writing him and that shocks me here and there. I'm like 'WHAT! YOU ARE ENJOYING WRITING HIS PART! GEEZ!!' Happily, I can truthfully say that I'm not like him in any way, shape or form. But it still is fun writing him. Oooh, thanks for the compliment! I am blushing at all the compliments that are coming to me from all of you incredible writers! Each of you need to try sitting down and reading your 'own' work from the outside looking in, and then you'll see what 'awesome' is! _

  


_Mommints: Awww, you were sneaking a peek at work, huh? Well, I'm glad you did and appreciate all your kind comments. Thanks! LOLOL...you are telling me that 'I' have a way with wielding words and such. Ah, well, I'd say your descriptiveness in your writings are beyond description. Hmmm...I'm just having fond flashbacks right now of how vividly you described Nabil in one of your snippets...um, um, um...now that's what I call descriptive! I think I fell in love with the guy just by reading how magnificent he is. But much thanks for the compliment...I try to be descriptive as possible. You are probably gonna want to choke the life out of me when you read this chapter...lolol...I'm probably going to have to duck for cover. I was mean, so very mean. Yes!!!_

  


_Marxbros: Yes, Zouhir must die. I agree. He's one character I love to hate. But I love writing him. Oh yeah, castration would be an interesting way for him to start the death process, huh? Maybe take a hacksaw and slice piece after piece of his uh, um...oscar mayer weiner, huh? That would be an interesting addition to the castration. LOLOL...whoo-whee! Can we come up with ideas, or what? And much thanks for the compliments! You are one of my favorite writers!_

  


_Tasha: No nails left, huh? Well, after you read what happens to poor Ardeth in this chapter, you may not have any fingers left either...lolol. I put that poor boy through the wringer and well, you know how it goes in works of fiction...despite the hideous turmoil that is faced, there is always a possibility of a happy ending. And yes, I agree. Ardeth needs a happy ending!_

  


_Patty: Zouhir get his hands on Ardeth? Hmmm, let me see. Trust me, Zouhir will have his big moment in the spotlight and Ardeth is gonna be right there with him. I'm glad you liked the chapter. Now, I don't know if you are gonna like this chapter, though. But I hope you do. I just wanted to see how much I could torment Ardeth in this chapter._

  


_Eva: Well girl, it's great to hear from you! I know what you mean about having no time anymore when children come, trust me! Thanks so much for the compliments. I appreciate them very, very much. And to answer your question about evil characters, they are not as difficult as it seems to write. It is kind of weird, but they are easier to write because they are not what 'we' are like. It is a lot easier for me to write about Zouhir or the Songhoi warriors than it is for the other characters that are of a good nature. LOLOL...you hate Zouhir too? So do I. But he's fun to write. And last but not least, congratulations on your baby boy! Hope to hear from you again soon!_

  


_Jon: Awww! That was so sweet of you to say! I'm glad it was worth the wait. But here I come, faster this time than last. Hope it is worth the 'short' wait. Short for me, that is!Yeah, I like Jonathan too. I really like all the characters and see them each as a vital unit of the whole picture. I think that when the chips are down, that Jonathan would come through, especially for those he loves. You know, I still can't believe the fact that you live only about an hour and a half away from me! I never though I'd make contact through any reviews this close. I mean, we could get together one day for lunch or something...lol. Maybe we can sometime, who knows? Oh yeah, FYI...I've started on the plot for the other story we were talking about. I'll email you about it as soon as I can finish the third chapter of a UC story I'm working on too. Hope you had a good time on Fat Tuesday!_

  


_Anya: Well, I can tell you that Bahir is definitely 'not' the bad guy! LOLOL...Zouhir. Keep saying 'Zouhir'...'Zouhir'....lolol. Sorry for taking so long in finishing that chapter. Hopefully, I won't take that long again. I hope, I hope...lol. By the way, where is more 'Red like Blood?'...hmmmm? I want to see some more about Heterity and Ardeth(hint, hint)._

  


_Kathy: Welcome to my newest reader! I hope you continue to enjoy the story. And it was very nice hearing from you...take care and I hope you enjoy this chapter, although sad it'll be._

  


_Well, phew...finished...lol...here goes. I hope ya'll enjoy this. Remember, pull out the Puffs, Kleenex, or a hankie....don't say I didn't warn ya!_

  


  
  
  
_ENDLESS LOVE_

  


_CHAPTER 18_

  


_Those eyes. Love shone in those eyes, as she gently brushed stray locks of hair from his face. He opened his eyes slowly, not wanting this moment to end. The gentle touch of her hand caressing his cheek always filled his senses with her undying love for him. Life had truly been good to him. As he lay next to his beloved, thoughts of the future permeated his mind. Through all the hardships, strife and countless times away on duty, Bahiyaa and his daughters were his solid foundation to which he could retreat in thought; his solace._

  


_Smiling tenderly, he gently wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her against him. Her arms snaked around his neck in an equally loving embrace as she kissed him with an urgency of need, fueled by the fire of true love. Neither wanted to end the kiss or the embrace. It was their lifeline. But all had to end, as duty was beckoning his arrival. Parting was always the most difficult. They wished that every moment spent wrapped in each others arms would last forever._

  


_His little girls dancing happily in front of the fire, carefree and full of the joys of childhood innocence. They smiled with excitement, knowing that their Abu would embrace them in his strong protective arms and rock them to sleep as he sang their favorite lullaby's as only he could. Tenderly he lowered them in their beds and gave them loving kisses. Those very kisses assured that sweet dreams would greet them. Praying over his children with Bahiyaa always at his side, he gave thanks for the most precious gift a man could receive; a beautiful wife and children who loved him unconditionally._

  


_~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~_

  


_Those eyes. Staring down at him, now lifeless, haunting, blaming him for the cruel injustice done. Nevermore to reflect laughter, love or the bright hope for tomorrow. Bahiyaa's eyes, never to shine with the precious gift of life again._

  


_His precious little girls. In death, their eyes reflected the agony and fear of the last moments of their innocent lives._

  


_His body should have given up his ghost the moment he laid eyes upon his family, because his heart had died with them that night._

  


He woke to the feeling of hands gently shaking him. Screams of agony and sorrow filled his senses, only to realize that they were his own. Ardeth looked up into the faces surrounding him through tear-filled eyes. All who were present knew what his nightmare was about. He had relived each and every agonizing detail. None present could hold back the tears as they sat, mutely trying to comfort him as no words could possibly console such a tortured heart.

  


Ardeth tried to stifle his emotional onslaught, but was unsuccessful. The soft caresses from Shatarra and Evy only accentuated his difficulty in emotional control. He had to get away.

  


Trying to rise, Ardeth groaned through the tears as he tried to shake off the hands that were holding him down. Weakness and the chest and abdominal wounds made the physical moves extremely difficult. A high fever had taken hold of his body overnight and his flesh hurt to the touch. Nevertheless, he persisted in his movements and managed a semi-seated position as the women finally relented their hold on him. Rick assisted him in his attempt and looked at his friend worriedly.

  


"Ardeth, I don't think it's a good idea to try to get up. I mean, you're pretty messed up and burning with fever," voiced a concerned Rick.

  


"Find a way, Rick," Ardeth gasped. "Get the women and children out. Abdul and Shariyf can help you find a way. You must try. Do all you can to save their lives!"

  


"We're not leaving you behind, Ardeth!" Rick exclaimed in a hushed voice…but he knew Ardeth was right. His friend's injuries were quite severe and his condition would slow down any attempt of escape. But nevertheless, Rick could not bear the thought of leaving Ardeth behind to the mercy of the Songhoi. He vowed to himself that he would find a way, but Ardeth would be with them, even if he had to carry him.

  


Abdul and Shariyf overheard Rick's exclamation and immediately knew what Ardeth was trying to do. They both got up from their pallets. Both men's injuries were extensive but superficial and were already starting to heal. It had been two days since the brutal attacks and the Songhoi had left them alone all this time. They knew it wouldn't last much longer; time was of the essence.

  


Shariyf crawled over to Ardeth's side and looked at his friend. Ardeth was deep in thought and his heart was heavy with the hopeless situation they were in.

  


Ardeth felt someone staring at him and turned to look into the pain-filled eyes of Shariyf."Shariyf, my friend. I am relieved to see that you are doing better," he whispered hoarsely, managing a weak smile. "How is Abdul?"

  


Abdul came forward from behind Shariyf. Abdul looked at Ardeth and lowered his eyes, looking at the areas of his Chieftain's body he knew were horribly bruised and battered. Abdul was healing more slowly than Shariyf due to the more brutal nature of his attack. He began to open Ardeth's shirt revealing the hideous damage. Abdul looked to Shariyf who was shaking his head at the sight. Ardeth's chest and abdomen were covered with deep bruises. His abdomen was swollen and tight. Something was damaged horribly in his abdomen. The swelling had begun the day before and had worsened overnight dramatically. Shariyf and Abdul looked at each other, extremely worried at the sight, and then both men looked at Rick who was staring wide-eyed with shock at the progressive swelling.

  


"We've got to get out of here. Ardeth is gonna die if we don't get him some help!" Rick hissed.

  


Abdul stumbled to his feet and Shariyf reached out a hand to steady him. Slowly, Abdul walked to the tent opening and carefully looked out. Seeing the Songhoi sitting in groups around the morning campfires, he tried to assess how many they were actually facing. He saw at least a dozen around the fires, but he knew that more were positioned around the perimeter of the camp.

  


All the while, Ardeth's mother and Evy tried to fight the fever that was raging through Ardeth's body. The fever had come on with an urgency of it's own during the early hours of the night and had not decreased in intensity despite their efforts.

  


Abdul continued his visual search of the Songhoi. Suddenly, his eyes widened in horror and a severe stiffness accosted his form as his eyes were seemingly transfixed on one area. His sudden alertness was not lost by Rick or Shariyf. They both got up quickly and went to the tent flap. Both men were equally as shocked as Abdul when they saw what had been constructed during the night. Roughly fifteen yards ahead of them stood a large pole buried deep in the ground that the Songhoi had prepared for obvious torture. Shackles dangled from a distance up, a testament to the horrors that would transpire. 

  


All three men managed to tear their eyes from the frightening sight and looked at each other. Desperation and abject fear laced their features as they were nearly certain _who_this device of torment was meant for. Rick swallowed hard and started to grasp at straws for answers of a way out of here. They would have to find a way out of here soon, or Ardeth would die.

  


"Abdul, how many did you count?" Rick whispered. "There's always a way out of a trap. There has to be one!"

  


"I saw twelve, but I know there are more. There were more than twelve that attacked Shariyf and I the other day," Abdul replied, still somewhat dazed.

  


"Shariyf, what do you think?" Rick asked. "Shariyf?" he repeated, when he got no answer.

  


Shariyf was standing still, staring at Ardeth, who appeared to be sleeping.

  


"Rick, there are too many for us to take on by ourselves," Shariyf said remorsefully. "The Songhoi have no intentions of honoring Zouhir's request to bring us to the Great Oasis. At least we would have a fighting chance if we were to make it that far. But from what I've seen of these animals, their bloodlust is too great. Killing to them is one of the most important aspects of their lives. But the taking of a life doesn't satisfy their need. They must torture and maim to receive the full measure of pleasure in the kill. There are many things you do not know about these animals. Ardeth Bey's blood is very special to them. He is a king and has the blood of generations of kings flowing through his veins. For many years, we have inadvertently encountered the Songhoi and have made special efforts to protect Ardeth. Now, he is in their grasp. They will not let him live to make it to the caverns to face Zouhir!" He closed his eyes, tightly.

  


Abdul and Rick said nothing. 

  


Shariyf continued. "There have been many stories told from long ago about how the Songhoi believe that they must consume the blood of their enemies in order to gain power and the wisdom of their opponents," he told Rick. "Even though these stories have been passed down from age to age, none of us are sure that they are accurate. But one thing we do know; none of their captives in the last three hundred years have lived to tell exactly what their methods of torture entail. Only stories from long ago about their drinking of the blood of their enemies. What greater blood to spill then, than that of the Medjai King, the leader of their greatest enemy? Zouhir made an irreparable error in allying with the Songhoi. They will never honor their pact with him!"

  


Shariyf heaved a great sigh. "I tell you now, we will not be able to escape. There is no way for us to. We cannot kill all of the enemy before we become overtaken. What then? Will they retaliate and kill the women and children as punishment? No, it is hopeless. And Ardeth, my lifelong friend, will die by these animal's hands!" he finished, a broken man.

  


Throughout it all, Shariyf was unaware of weak and weary eyes staring at him. Ardeth sighed, and they all turned to see the subject of their concern. He knew whatever the Songhoi had constructed outside would be used for means of torture. Ardeth continued to stare at his three dear friends as Shatarra broke down with the startling revelation. Her child had already been hideously tortured and would surely die by these animal's hands. And they weren't even finished with his torment.

  


Shatarra continued to bathe her son's face and neck with cool cloths as tears ran down her aged cheeks. She knew that begging the Songhoi for her son's life would be in vain. But still, she had to try and try she would, even if the cost was her life. After all, she would gladly die for her child-wouldn't any loving mother?

  


Evy had been preoccupied with preparing more cool water in another bowl but had not heard all the latest information that was being divulged. She brought the bowl over to Shatarra's side and immediately stopped when she saw the even greater agony on Ardeth's mother's face. Frowning, she turned, puzzled at what had transpired while she had been farther back in the tent.

  


"Rick, what has happened?" Evy asked as she wrapped her arms around Shatarra in an effort to comfort her. Rick didn't respond to Evy's question, only shook his head negatively at her. He hadn't been aware that Shatarra had overheard them speaking, as she was up in age and he had always assumed that her hearing would have not been as keen as it was.

  


Ardeth turned his eyes towards his mother and made his best effort to smile at her, gently placing his hand over hers as she brought the cool cloth towards his chest and shoulders."It is alright Ume," Ardeth said, trying to hide his pain as he offered as much comfort to her as possible. He hated knowing that his mother had witnessed the attack on him. All the while he was being beaten and kicked, he kept making efforts to let her know he was okay. All, of course, was in false pretense, but it was done with the best intentions. Never in all the times he had been wounded had his mother actually seen an attack on him. He knew her heart was tormented by the visions of the brutal attack and those horrible visions would live with her for the rest of her life. But sadly, he knew that much more was to come, and his heart ached for her. Ardeth knew of the tales of the Songhoi's drinking of their enemy's blood, and it would be much too much for Shatarra's frail heart to take. All because of one man's blind hate, his whole family would ultimately pay the price. 

  


Closing his eyes so as to block out the sadness surrounding him, he focused on facing the inevitable and made peace within himself and with Allah. He begged Allah to spare as many as possible from the hands of the enemy, and prayed for help to arrive to assist those who would survive.

  


As he continued to pray, exhaustion overcame him and he drifted off to sleep. Evy continued to help Shatarra bathe Ardeth's feverish body, when she suddenly noticed that Hayat had returned from the tent that housed the other women and their children. She was standing in the entrance, unsure whether to enter or not. Her heart said yes, but fear of hurting him more deterred her from taking another step. Evy stood up and walked towards Hayat who had her eyes solely focused on Ardeth's sleeping form. Tears welled up in her eyes, having seen the torture device being constructed outside. 

  


All the women were crying when the Songhoi warriors had begun to erect the large pole. They all knew that the agony would once again resume, but they knew not who would be the first victim to be chosen. Each mother cradled their children, consoling them, all the while praying that the vicious beasts wouldn't take the lives of their little ones. 

  


Hayat had watched the mothers with their children and her heart ached with the memories of her little son. She didn't know whether to be thankful to God that her son had died in the desert and had been spared the possibility of dying in the Songhoi's evil hands. Nevertheless, her heart ached for her now dead child, and her arms craved to embrace his little body. He had always been such a vibrant lovely little boy who could captivate anyone's heart. His life was snuffed out at such a tender age by the treatment of violent men. She had to get out of the tent, as the pain of the memories and the sad spectacle before her was too much for her to handle.

  


Now standing in this tent's opening, she realized that she couldn't run away from the agony. Pain was everywhere in this camp. There was no escape. Looking down at this incredible man who had sacrificed so much himself, along with Shariyf, to save the women and children of the ill-fated caravan, had suffered such a great loss himself. Evy had given her all the details she knew of about the murders of his wife and children and her heart went out to him. So much suffering, everywhere, inescapable.

  


Evy had told her other stories as well about how wonderful Bahiyaa and their daughters had been; how loving and such priceless treasures in Ardeth's life. She had lost a husband and a son, and he had lost a wife and two daughters. The only difference was that she had not loved her husband. Her life had been nothing more than an arranged marriage, but less than that. Her life had been nothing more than that of a slave to him and his whims. The child she loved, oh yes, she loved him dearly. Despite his paternal parentage, nothing could deter her love for her son. He was her solace in her time within the confines of her husband's home, she was mere chattel to him and was very ill-treated.

  


But this man that lay before her was in a category all in itself. Physically beautiful beyond words, but an even greater beauty lay within his being. She had caught a brief glimpse of this fearless warrior's heart when her son had died, and that brief glimpse spoke volumes.

  


Not noticing Evy as she was deep in thought about this unique man, she jumped slightly in alarm at the soft touch on her arm.

  


"Hayat, please come and sit with Shatarra and I," Evy said, smiling at her newest friend. "We really need all the help we can get. Ardeth's fever won't relent. It is quite high and we are desperately trying to bring it down. Would you help us?"

  


"I don't know if I should, Evy," Hayat said, never taking her eyes off him. "The one thing I do not want to do is cause him greater discomfort."

  


Evy gently wrapped her arm around Hayat's shoulders and whispered in her ear. "Your touch might well be the very thing he needs right now. His heart is tattered and torn, and his hopes of the future for himself may seem gone forever, but I saw how comfortable he was with you when you were holding his hand before guilt crept in and robbed him of the comfort he desperately needs."

  


Hayat said nothing. 

  


"I know this may sound ludicrous at the moment," said Evy. "But I do believe that Ardeth's destiny was to find you in the desert. To encounter the savagely attacked caravan and hunt down those responsible. I truly believe that there is a significant reason that he feels comfort from you. I see the way you look at him and I know that it is not out of sympathy. Yes, I know you feel for him for his loss, but then, I see something more. I don't know how to explain what I see but I know that the future holds something special for you and Ardeth."

  


Hayat stared wide-eyed at Evy, not knowing how to answer her. She was amazed that Evy had somehow felt the same thoughts that were running through her own mind. Hayat had felt an amazing attraction to this man from the moment her eyes beheld him. But it was not the attraction of a physical sort, but an intuition of things to come. She knew that one day, Ardeth would be her husband. She would not give up on him.

  


A disturbance from outside brought them to attention, as the Songhoi were up to something. Suddenly, several of their warriors burst through the tent opening and walked towards the bedroll of Ardeth Bey. The noise had caused him to rouse, and now, he stared eye to eye with his enemy and his fate. Rough hands grabbed his arms and lifted him to a standing position. The other Songhoi warriors who had entered held Rick, Abdul and Shariyf at bay.

  


Wails of sorrow turned to screams of torment as Ardeth's weakened body was dragged out of the tent. His mother, who had frantically held onto him as he was lifted, was roughly thrown to the ground. Her anguished cries were joined by much weeping from Evy and Hayat as they quickly came to her aid. Utter confusion commenced as Ardeth was dragged to the pole. All who were in the tent were forcibly shoved out of it to watch the spectacle. Rick, Abdul and Shariyf's wrists were bound behind their backs and they were forced to kneel in a place that had a clear view of what would transpire.

  


Rick stared wide-eyed as two Songhoi warriors grabbed Ardeth, and raised his arms high above his head. Sharp pain racked his body as his arms were jerked up high, forcing his broken ribs to move. The pain in his swollen abdomen was even greater as he was stretched to meet the awaiting shackles, causing his body to be lifted completely off the ground. The pain was too much to bear and a weak cry escaped his lips.

  


The Songhoi had him suspended by means of their shear strength and began to place the shackles on his arms. They were placed tightly around his wrists and the warriors purposely let his body fall to its dangling position suspended several inches above the ground. Ardeth's loud gasp could be heard by all and even greater cries escaped Shatarra, Hayat and Evy as well as the host of women and children being made to watch. 

  


Shariyf, Abdul, and Rick couldn't prevent tears either, as the shackles showed the evidence of their damage. Rivulets of blood cascaded down Ardeth's arms, as the shackles were not just mere shackles; they were intended as a device of torment. When a person was suspended, small razor sharp blades slipped out of recessed slots to inflict more pain by slicing through the person's flesh. Greater damage was inflicted as movement of the suspended person made the cuts deeper and deeper. The blades were effective in causing intense pain but were strategically placed, so as not to injure vital wrist arteries so the victim wouldn't mercifully bleed to death.

  


Smiling at his evident pain, a Songhoi warrior reached up to test the cuffs, tugging on Ardeth's arms. An intense grimace graced Ardeth's face as the slicing blades accosted his wrists even deeper. His head slumped against the post as he tried to catch his breath. Sweating profusely, he was having great difficulty breathing because of the broken ribs. The pain was so intense Ardeth was near the point of passing out into oblivion. 

  


With one harsh tug, one of the Songhoi ripped his robes and shirt off Ardeth's body, exposing his already tortured body to the mercy of the enemy. Sweat dripped from his face and torso with the strain of gravity and it's effect upon his entire body. The blood continued to run down his arms, leaving bloody trails down his bare chest and back. 

  


The warrior who had torn Ardeth's clothing off walked towards the close-knit family and friends of the victim. He bent down in front of Shatarra and dropped Ardeth's bloody remnants of his robe and shirt, with the obvious intent for her to keep them. He looked at the old woman and began smiling at her overwhelming suffering.

  


"Would you like to see your son one more time?" The warrior asked. "I give you the opportunity to tell him your goodbyes."

  


Shatarra looked the warrior straight in the face. A mixture of anger, frustration and agonizing sorrow reflected in her eyes. She was never one to display hate nor had she ever felt hate for anyone. Through the years, she had suffered greatly through the many injuries and deaths of her husband, children, parents and siblings. Through all these years, she didn't hate anyone for the great losses of her loved ones. She only felt pity for their miserable souls. Hate had no place in her life, and now, she stared in the face of a man who would derive great pleasure at the expense of her son's torture and demise. It would be easy to hate this man. It would be easy to hate them all. 

  


Slowly, the aged woman rose from the ground and started to walk towards her beloved son. As she came closer, her heart raced in her chest. So much blood…so much blood. Ardeth's head was still leaning against the pole when he heard a faint whisper, someone calling his name. He squeezed his eyes shut, hiding his face from view, knowing that it was his mother. He didn't want her to see him like this. No, not like this. Trying desperately to hide his pain and emotions, he turned his head to face her. His eyes tried not to betray his pain, but she was his mother. And as his mother, she had a keen sense concerning her son. She could see behind the mask that he was trying to hold up. In those beautiful eyes of his, great sorrow and horrible pain tried to remain hidden. 

  


Neither Shatarra or Ardeth knew what to say. Both were overtaken by the emotional onslaught and nothing that could be said would change this situation. Ardeth just prayed silently that his mother and the others were able to be rescued or possibly escape before any more would be subjected to this ultimate hell on earth.

  


Shatarra reached up to touch her son's face, gently brushing his blood and sweat soaked hair from his eyes. Tears came freely as she caressed his cheek, knowing that this would be the last time she would ever touch him while his life remained. She gently embraced him as best as possible and continued to stare into those eyes she knew so well.

  


"I will always love you, my son," Shatarra said shakily. "I love you more than life itself. I cannot bear the thought of your torture," she cried. "And I am-so proud, so very proud that Allah blessed me with you for my son." 

  


Ardeth looked compassionately at his mother, knowing that he would give anything within his powers to not have her witness this. He tried to hold a brave front up for her, but his eyes betrayed him. They always did. "Ume, help will come. I just know it will," he whispered to her, knowing that all the warriors that had congregated at Cairo would now be deep in the desert, traveling towards the caverns. 

  


Although she didn't want to leave his side, Shatarra couldn't bear seeing her son like this. She reached up and tenderly kissed her son's cheek and leaned her head gently against his bare shoulder. His body was so injured, even if they were able to find a means of escape, her Ardeth wouldn't be with them. He only thought of the other's welfare, not so much his own. Ardeth had been that way all his life, prioritizing everyone's needs as the most important. Not one time did he even mention that there was no hope for him, although deep inside he knew it well enough. He couldn't hide the fact that he would die shackled to this instrument of death.

  


She afforded herself one last look at her precious son and kissed him for the last time as tears flowed freely down her face. 

  


"I love you, Ume," Ardeth whispered hoarsely. "I love you more than I can say," he spoke these words knowing in his heart that they would be his last.

  


Shatarra's overwhelming sorrow doubled, with the agonizing, broken voice of her son. He spoke words of love for her that she had no doubt believing. He had truly been a wonderful son; a son that any mother would be proud to claim. Straightening up as much as her aged body would let her, Shatarra turned and looked at the Songhoi warrior who had come to the group to let her go to him. Walking over to him instead of Evy and the others, she stopped a few steps from the warrior and dropped to her knees before him. 

  


"Please, spare the life of my child. I beg of you, please! Let me die in his place, but let him live. I am an old woman and I have nothing to offer you but my life. Please, I beg of you, spare him!" Shatarra said pleadingly through her tears. "Spare an old woman's child," she begged as she bent down in front of the warrior, her forehead touching the hot sand. 

  


Ardeth closed his eyes, as he heard the insistent words Shatarra had spoken. He knew her heart as well as he did his own. She would willingly offer her life in place of his. She was an extremely brave woman and not even the presence of the fearful Songhoi could deter her pleas for hope.

  


Ardeth couldn't see Shatarra, as she and the warrior were behind him. As the warrior watched Ardeth's mother grovel at his feet, he gloated in the atmosphere it had set. Here was a Medjai woman, the mother of the king of the Medjai at that, offering her life for his. Not even the mother of a king was worth the blood spilled of a male enemy. This king's blood was prized among the Songhoi and they each wanted to partake of it. But first he would have to set an example of this woman first in order to prevent any others from wasting more of their valuable time. With a sharp kick of his boot, Shatarra fell backwards to the ground, the boot impacting with her face.

  


"You bastard!" screamed an enraged Rick. "Is there no limit to your savagery?" 

  


"Shut your mouth, heathen!" the Songhoi standing behind the group yelled. 

  


"No!" answered Rick. "You are nothing but the scum of mankind. Mere owners of human skin. You don't even deserve the right to _wear_ that skin!"

  


"You're time is coming soon enough, foreigner," the warrior replied back, hatred blazing in his eyes. "But first, I think we shall make you watch your wife suffer first. I think that we will make you watch as we ravish her over and over. After we have received our fill of lustful enjoyment, we shall make her suffer greatly for your insults. Then when your son arrives with the others, we will make you watch as we skin the boy alive. You say we are savages and scum. Then we shall show you how barbaric and merciless we can be! Don't thank us, we will be more than happy to oblige you with our hospitality."

  


Rick's eyes widened at the threat and fought for control over his hate-filled emotions. His son? These animals had his son? Was Jonathan with Alex or had he died trying to protect him? Rick vowed he would make these animals pay for what they had done and what they threatened to do. He hoped and prayed that he would be able to stop them before anymore damage could be done.

  


Rick frantically fought with the ropes holding his hands firmly behind his back. He managed to loosen them despite the Songhoi's expertise in restraining their captives. The Songhoi warrior laughed at Rick's attempt to get out of the ropes and turned away for a few seconds only to turn around rapidly, backhanding an unsuspecting Rick who went flying through the air, sprawling out on the ground quite a distance away.

  


"Yes, your son is being held captive by our men sent to Cairo by Zouhir. I see it in your eyes; the questions and shock at this startling revelation. Our warriors will be rendezvousing with us very soon. They should be here late tonight and you will watch as we make you pay for your insults. Slowly, very slowly, your family will pay for your words!"

  


The warrior standing in front of Shatarra listened to the dialogue carried on by this foreigner and his fellow warrior. His anger and hate-filled heart was even the more enraged by the insults. Looking down at the old woman, he kicked her once more. This time his kick impacted with her ribs. A loud gasp escaped Shatarra's lips and Ardeth's head whipped back and he strained to look at what they were doing to his mother.

  


At first Shatarra had thought that the Songhoi had taken her up on her offer and steadied herself for the next blow. 

  


Ardeth heard the first kick and knew that they were attacking his mother. He tried to move, but the restraining shackles and the pronounced weakness prevented much progress in turning. Suddenly there was some sort of commotion over by the others. He heard the second kick and heard his mother's loud gasp. This brought a newfound strength to him from deep within. He jerked his head around as far as he could and saw his mother on her back in the sand. The Songhoi warrior was standing over her, laughing at her attempt to change their plans by sacrificing herself instead of her son. His laughter echoed through the oasis at the idea of a woman placing more value on herself than a man.

  


Rick was still glaring at the warrior, knowing that he was at a loss to help Shatarra. Now, his willingness to confront the warrior had only deepened their predicament. Or had the plans the warrior divulged been theirs all along? The warrior standing by Shatarra smiled at Rick and the Medjai men who would have no doubt already attacked them in retaliation to his treatment of the old woman. The Medjai were like that. Tough on the outside, but tender on the inside. They would die for honor. The smile turned into the most hideous, wicked grin Rick had ever seen. Rick, Shariyf and Abdul were soon to find out what was on the warrior's mind when he retrieved his rifle from his back holster and hit Shatarra in the face with the butt of the rifle. 

All three men thought he was going to shoot Shatarra, but even that was below the Songhoi. They had not gotten to torture her yet. So, shooting her would prove to be a great loss to them. They had to satiate that lust for torture before they killed her or the effort would have been a total loss. 

  


Ardeth jerked on the chains suspending his arms above causing more bleeding and acute searing pain in his arms, but he didn't care, nor did he even feel the full brunt of his actions. His mother's life was in danger and he would not stop fighting to get loose until he could come to her aid. But the cuffs were too tight and each movement caused the blades to dig in worse. Nothing could be accomplished through his vain efforts and his very being was near drowning with hate that seared its very vengeance upon Ardeth's heart. 

  


Evy and Hayat gasped at the vicious attack upon Shatarra while Rick, Abdul and Shariyf instinctively lunged forward in unison towards her to offer protection. Each fought with the ropes holding them bound as they began their approach towards Shatarra and the warrior. But the ropes proved too tight.

  


More Songhoi warriors came forward and took hold of the three men and forcibly dragged them back to their former position in front of the crowd. The warrior who had brutalized Shatarra grabbed her by her hair and dragged her back to the group of spectators. Unbeknownst to them all, what the Songhoi had threatened Rick with was true. They were not mere idle words. Each and everyone were going to have their turn at this pole. Men, women, children; it didn't matter. They would all drink from this bitter cup.

  


Ardeth tried to turn around more, but could not. His frustrations rose, despite the weakness and pain when he heard the commotion behind him. He had seen his dear friends trying to come to Shatarra's aid and being stopped. Then he saw Shatarra being dragged across the hot sand to the group of victims waiting. He sighed in the frustration he felt, knowing that his mother needed him and he was not able to assist her. The hopelessness deepened in his heart and waited for what was to come next. But still, his heart was filled with pride for the woman who gave him life and had sacrificed so much for him through the years. Now, she had come face to face with the Songhoi with an offer of the ultimate sacrifice; her life for his. He could not help the pride and admiration that rose in him for her. 

  


Everyone watched and waited, as all had become deathly quiet in the gathering area. Not so much as a whimper of a child could be heard as they waited for the Songhoi's next move.

  


Shariyf stared at his dear friend, silently begging for this nightmare to end. If he had a way of getting a weapon, he would eagerly offer Ardeth mercy and kill him before the Songhoi could do further damage. The thought sent chills up and down his spine and tears filled his eyes, but he would do it for Ardeth to save him from the terrors he would face. He was sure that Allah wouldn't disapprove of him showing mercy for this man he loved as a brother by preventing the sick, twisted treatment of the Songhoi from happening. He bowed his head and could not contain the tears for his friend. 

  


The sound of Shariyf's inner turmoil surfacing broke the silence and brought Rick's attention from Ardeth's predicament. He knew what he was feeling, knew the pain. But there were no words that he could offer for comfort. All of them were facing the most horrible spectacle each had ever seen. 

  


Evy sat on the ground next to Shatarra. Hayat was on the other side of Ardeth's mother, both women holding on to her as she had to witness her child being subjected to the ultimate torture. Her cheek was beginning to swell from the boot kick, but she didn't even feel it. She was beyond any measure of fear for her son and raised her hands to her face in an attempt to block out the horrible vision. To make matters worse, she heard a strange metallic slithering sound and risked looking. Evy gasped as one of the largest Songhoi warriors had uncoiled a long whip. The whip would have been bad enough in itself, but it had metal shards and pieces of glass embedded in the leather. 

  


The warrior placed himself so as to not block the view of his mother and loved ones. He swung his arm back and came forward with a momentum that matched his massive bulging arms as the whip sailed through the air. 

  


Ardeth's head snapped back, eyes wide in shock with the impact of the whip across his back and as it made its journey around his side and chest, the metal shards and glass ripping deeply and imbedding in his flesh. The warrior smiled, as he knew the whip was wrapped around the Medjai's body and tugged sharply at it, causing further ripping of the captive's flesh. Ardeth gasped loudly with the pain and his head once again rested against the pole that held him captive. His hands formed fists, causing his wrists to tense even more causing the sharp blades to cut deeper into him. Gasping frantically for air, the sweat of his body was so profuse it fought for competition with the crimson tendrils running down his body.

  


Utter brutality accosted Ardeth's body with each swing of the whip, and after five lashes, he lost consciousness. Ardeth's body hung limply against the pole, blood everywhere. 

  


Shatarra's tears fell to the ground as she watched the great suffering her son had been victim of. Thinking that it was over with his unconscious state, a tearful Evy wrapped her arms around Shatarra, trying to reassure her that the horrid beating was over. But that was not to be, as another of the Songhoi warriors came forward with a small bottle and grabbed the unconscious Ardeth by the hair, pulling his head backward and pouring the contents down his throat. In his unconscious state, Ardeth choked reflexively, but the warrior cupped his hand under Ardeth's chin and held his mouth firmly shut. Eventually the choking subsided and the warrior dropped Ardeth's head into its former forward position. The warriors stood waiting to see if he would respond, and a few minutes later Ardeth's eyes opened, utter agony blazing in them.

  


The Songhoi warrior who had issued out the lashes smiled at Ardeth's response to the potion. The potion was one used by them to prevent a captive from losing consciousness. Once consumed, the potion inhibited the ability to pass out and had properties in it that enhanced the pain that was being inflicted. Now was the time that the warriors loved most, when the captive wouldn't have refuge from the pain. The whip-wielding warrior looked into Ardeth's eyes mockingly and spit in the face of his captive as he began his walk to his former position of torment.

  


The whole oasis seemed to reel with screams of emotional anguish as all the women and children had to witness such inhumane barbarism inflicted upon this well-respected man; the man who had saved them from their desert captors. The very man who had shown a great respect of women as he made the lone survivor of the bandits grovel at the women's feet to beg forgiveness and for his pathetic life. 

  


Never had such a hideous display of heinous brutality been witnessed by any man, woman or child at this oasis. For no one had ever lived to witness what the Songhoi did to their victims. Abdul and Shariyf were shocked beyond words. Both men had seen many hideous displays of torment inflicted by man throughout their years as warriors, but this was beyond either's imagination. Rick was at a loss for words, never having seen such unimaginable treatment inflicted upon anyone, and he had witnessed many acts of barbarism in his life as well. 

  


Shatarra, Evy, Hayat, Rick, Abdul and Shariyf all had been made to sit the closest in order that they would get a better look at the treatment Ardeth was being subjected to. Shatarra was beyond any chance of consolation and Evy and Hayat huddled close to her, holding her as all three women cried tears that would never offer any healing to their shattered hearts.

  


All the while Rick, Shariyf and Abdul stayed close to the women, hovering over them in a protective stance, however improbably useless it would prove to be. Each time one of his loved ones bowed or turned their head to avert their eyes from the terrifying display, the Songhoi guarding the group would inflict some pain of their own by harshly hitting one of the women. Quickly, all the men learned that they had no choice but to stare at their friend and brother, as the cost would be even greater due to the none-so-gentle attack on the women.

  


To make matters worse, one of the warriors walked over to the warrior with the whip and they both agreed upon some unheard words. Before the warrior commenced with his beating of Ardeth, the other warrior walked over to the pole bearing his bloody body and motioned to another warrior to assist him in turning Ardeth's body around to face his audience. Though his body was slick with blood, it didn't prove to be too difficult a task as the shackles had a flexible ring allowing position changes. Now, his loved ones had no choice but to look at the face of the man they loved as son, friend and brother as the whip started to swing into action once more.

  


They all could see how horrible an effect the whip had on his chest and his swollen, deeply bruised abdomen. Deep gashes were everywhere from his upper arms to the evidence of the whip wrapping around Ardeth's thighs. The pants legs were ripped into shreds in several areas, bloody gashes plainly visible. A cruel testament of the effectiveness of the jagged glass and metal shards imbedded in the whip. The Songhoi were without a doubt the cruelest of all mortal beings, as their insatiable appetite for suffering and death laced their faces as they watched Ardeth's torture continue.

  


The whip connected with Ardeth's body with a vengeance once more and his body bucked under the attack, unable to mask the scream that fought for competition with the screams and cries of the others. The pain much worse because of the potion, Ardeth silently begged for death to claim him. Tormented eyes made contact with Rick's, the pain uncontrollable as the flesh was ripped from his body with the tug of the whip. Finally, tears accompanied the pain. 

  


Rick cried uncontrollably as well, totally helpless to assist his friend, his brother. 

  


Ardeth was unable to control the tears now; there was no reprieve from the pain, as he couldn't pass into the darkness of sweet oblivion. 

  


Rick made a brave decision, standing once more and walking towards Ardeth, not caring what the Songhoi did to him. The Songhoi watched his approach towards the Medjai king, and wondered what this lone man thought he could do to fight against such a formidable foe, for the look in Rick's eyes was not one of submission or pitiful sadness, but one of hate and vengeance.

  


The whip flew through the air rapidly and Rick saw it coming. Quickly, in desperation and compassion, he threw himself directly against Ardeth's tortured body. All the while, Ardeth was saying 'no' to Rick, nearly inaudible from the weakness of the physical agony and blood loss.

  


But Rick wouldn't listen to Ardeth's plea to not try and come to his aid. He had managed to work his hands loose of their bonds, which amused the Songhoi of how futile the effort had been. Rick held Ardeth to him in a firm embrace to shelter his body from any further torture. The whip connected to Rick's body and the unimaginable pain became reality, as Rick's scream could be heard echoing through the area. Then, the worst came as the warrior jerked the whip. Rick's body shuddered under the torment of having his flesh ripped from him and an even louder scream rushed up his throat. Gasping, he looked into the tormented face of Ardeth, their eyes connecting, and Rick knew what Ardeth was thinking. He didn't want to see his friend suffer at the hands of these animals and would gladly take the torment if it would save their lives. Ardeth whispered to Rick before the next blow came. He told him to go back and not to place himself in such a horrible position. But Rick wouldn't relent, shaking his head vehemently, teary eyes staring into the dark amber eyes, now only reflecting the pain and fear for his friend's life. 

  


All the while, the Songhoi took sport upon both men, amused at his attempt to protect his friend from further harm. Laughter from the Songhoi mingled with the screams and cries of their victim's audience as they reveled in the bloody scene before them. 

  


Twice more, the whip wrapped itself around Rick and met its mark on Ardeth's back as well. Both men gasped simultaneously at the pain, Ardeth's pain being worse because of the potion's effect. The ripping of their flesh caused each man to shudder as Rick refused to leave Ardeth alone to face this atrocious treatment. 

  


"Please, Rick....go before it's....too late," Ardeth whispered in Rick's ear.

  


"Ardeth, I am...and...always will...be your friend," Rick spoke with difficulty, more or less gasping the words. "I would...die...for you. I owe you...that much...you have sacri...ficed much for my...family. I love...you, my...brother." 

  


Ardeth bowed his weary head, resting it on Rick's shoulder. His whispered pleas for Rick to go back to Evy and the others were denied and he was unable to try and push Rick away, with his arms bound high above, nor could he possibly have done so had his arms been unrestrained because of the severe weakness. 

  


Suddenly both men were aware of others as Abdul and Shariyf had joined Rick and Ardeth at the instrument of torment. Their hands still restrained behind them, they turned to face the enemy. The Songhoi were extremely amused now at the ridiculous show of bravery and honor that they had not the first inkling to understand or display themselves. To them, it was more of a show of utter stupidity as each man would have their own time coming restrained to that pole. They were fools to rush in to receive their punishment.

  


Evy watched as her husband stood bravely in front of Ardeth, facing him to take the brunt of the whip's lash, and though her heart ached even the more at the sight of her husband now being ripped and torn, she was proud, so very proud of his display of courage and love for Ardeth. Both men, though different as night and day in displays of attitude, were very similar in their courage and loyalty to each other and to all in need; the literal protection of humanity. Now, Abdul and Shariyf had joined them to face their own fate and offer protection for each other. All knew it was in vain, but at least they had to try. The attempt would ultimately fail unless something miraculous happened soon. The men knew it as well as the women who sat watching, never ceasing in the tears flowing down their pained faces. But despite the fact that the attempt would miserably fail, they were compelled to do it; for honor and duty was of the utmost importance to them. 

  


Ardeth shook his head weakly, as he saw the faces of Abdul and Shariyf, now facing towards Rick's exposed back and staring into the battered face of Ardeth. He shook his head, but as weak and torn as he was, inside he felt a special pride in these two men as he also felt for Rick. These three had sacrificed much in order to protect him. If he lived, which he seriously doubted, he would never ever forget the sacrifices made by these three men, his brothers not by blood, but by the connection of their hearts and souls. 

  


~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

  


Hours seemed like days as the Medjai made their procession towards the oasis. Bahir knew that Ardeth had most likely diverted to it and the closer they came to their destination, the more agitated Bahir became. 

  


"We have to get there soon," Bahir said to Uzmir. "I sense pain, horrible pain. I know that something is happening at the oasis. I feel them."

  


Uzmir looked at Bahir and wondered at this young Medjai. He himself had never experienced an incredible connection as such that would allow a person to feel what others very dear to him were enduring. He had heard of it. Knew of the existence of such intimate connections. But even as close as Quadir was to Uzmir, he never felt the pain that his friend was experiencing.

  


"Are you sure what you are feeling, Bahir?" asked a curious Uzmir. "You can actually feel something wrong with Ardeth and Shariyf? Or is the pain you feel from the lack of knowledge concerning their welfare?"

  


Bahir stared off in the distance, the oasis growing ever closer but still not close enough to visualize. "They are there and they are in great pain."

  


Uzmir had nodded sadly at Bahir's answer and pulled on the reins of his horse to head back to Quadir who had been riding next to Jonathan. He wanted to talk to him and inform him what all Bahir was saying. Bahir's word could not be taken lightly and they would have to stop shortly and make a plan of attack. If Ardeth or Shariyf were in physical pain, then those who had inflicted the pain would be there. Yes, plans had to be made if they were to operate smoothly and efficiently. 

  


But first, he wanted to know where Quadamah was. That young man had never left his thoughts for an instant and if Quadamah had gone in search of their king, then Uzmir was most certain that he was heading for the small oasis as well. Hopefully they would catch up to him before he could put himself in harms way. 

  


~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

  


Quadamah was very near the oasis when he spotted the tents in the center clearing. Even at this distance, he could hear the screams. He was aware that he was one man against many, but the need to help overrode any thoughts of waiting for help to arrive. 

  


He approached as close as possible without being detected by any at the oasis and dismounted his horse. Quadamah walked hunched over, as he crested each dune until he was within a hundred yards from the outer tents. He could still hear the screams and cries echoing over the dunes and the sound filled his heart with pain. What should he do? How could he make a difference? So many thoughts passed through his weary head, no definite answer could be found. 

  


Quadamah thought about waiting until nightfall, but the sounds of the screams made him decide on other plans. He would have to make it to the outer tents and work his way inward. Making it even close to the tents would prove to be perilous but he would have to try. Uzmir had taught him the art of furtiveness, but in circumstances like these, even the most stealthful approach could prove to be futile.

  


He bowed his head with the magnitude of the situation. Resting his forehead on his wrist, he listened to the wails and screams emanating throughout the desert expanse. The cries of pain and for mercy had increased dramatically. He had no idea who these men were that held prisoners, but they were causing them great pain. Quadamah gave himself the luxury of a few minutes to ponder the situation and what the best approach would be. He removed his boots and removed his weaponry, dropping them to the sand beside him. Kneeling down and bowing his head all the way to the sand, he began to pray for these people whose lives were in peril and prayed for strength and wisdom to be able to make a difference despite his being one man.

  


Quadamah prayed for some minutes then began to put his boots and weaponry on. After finishing, he walked towards his horse and was going to mount. He stopped dead still when he saw an intimidating figure standing next to his horse.

  


"Come here boy," said the tall, squalid figure. Although the man was at least thirty feet away, he could smell the hideous scent of the man. But the fetid odor of the man paled in comparison to the foulness of the man's heart and soul. His eyes reflected that foulness and Quadamah saw it immediately. He knew that this must be the mirage that had been following him through the desert. Now, he faced his foe, eye to eye. To shoot the man would have been to his advantage, but his rifle was on his horse, only having his scimitar and daggers on his person. 

  


Cursing silently, he wondered how he would be able to fight this hideous man. This Songhoi had taken the upper hand, not only by the natural aspect of his superior height and build, but by standing near his horse where Quadamah's easy way out of the situation lay. However, Quadamah thought, if he were to shoot the man, he would alert all of those at the camp and would divulge his presence. Quickly, desperately trying to decide what to do, his thoughts turned to his king. Was he at the oasis? Was he being held captive in these men's hands? Was the Songhoi the enemy at the camp? What was he really up against? Now, he wished he hadn't betrayed Uzmir by disobeying his orders. He was in a world of trouble and would without a doubt die because of his impetuousness.

  


"Come here, I said!" snarled the man, once again. "Come here or I'll come to you. It doesn't matter to me. Either way, you are going to die."

  


"No!" Quadamah snapped at the man. "You may come if you wish, but I won't die without a fight!"

  


The Songhoi warrior laughed at this young boy's bravado. Everyone he had ever encountered within the other tribes throughout the desert had cowered in his and his comrade's presence. But this young boy, a Medjai boy, brazened out and with the utmost firmness of resolve on the outside, but the warrior knew that deep inside, the young boy was quaking in his boots. He had to give the boy one compliment though; he didn't show his fear.

  


The warrior started his approach towards Quadamah. Immediately Quadamah started to walk in a circling pattern, looking for any sign of weakness that could be taken advantage of. He found none. The warrior laughed at Quadamah's moves. He knew what he was doing, circling around his opponent. But sadly for the boy, he would find no advantage to take. He had been a seasoned warrior for sometime now, and had nearly a thousand kills under his belt. This boy, though, would prove to give him a little competition. That thought made him smile. He was tired of facing cowardly, spineless opponents. He liked for things to be interesting and this confrontation had the promise of a fight worth the time and energy expended.

  


Qudamah had made a complete circle around his enemy and found no means of taking him off guard. He knew he had to make a move soon or the warrior would charge. Thinking on that, Quadamah figured that the Songhoi making the first move would be profitable for him. If he made the first move, the enemy would just take advantage of his forward momentum and take him down quickly and efficiently. But if he let the enemy come to him, his chances were better to act while the warrior was charging. Yes, he would cause the warrior to become annoyed with him and charge instead. That way, Quadamah could act while the warrior was busy charging towards him.

  


He continued to circle his opponent again, and it seemed to work on the warrior's patience. He wanted to overcome this boy and get to the campgrounds. He could hear the wails and screams of torment emanating from the captives and didn't want to miss too much. Getting rather perturbed at this young warrior's continued circling of him gave him the urge to charge at him. Taking him by force, he wouldn't kill him just yet, but would take him to the campgrounds to be properly eliminated. He had waited long for this and wouldn't be robbed of his enjoyment that was duly his.

  


Patience worn thin and ready for action, he charged at the young Medjai. Quadamah saw his move and was quite surprised that the large warrior could move with such speed. Quadamah didn't even have his scimitar drawn and had little time to react. But not yet. He waited for the warrior to get a little closer. He wanted the warrior to think that he didn't know what to do or was confused and scared and had frozen with fear. The warrior was gaining space between the two of them and Quadamah counted the seconds before it was his time to react. He stood wide-eyed, watching the approaching warrior, sincerely hoping that his little ruse was working. 

  


The warrior approached the last few yards and let out a war cry as he pulled out a very large dagger from his belt. Raised high above his head, the warrior lunged forward towards his victim, ready to make the cutting blow that would incapacitate the young warrior.

  


Quadamah continued to count the seconds as his heart raced and pounded with a rhythm that rivaled the very seconds he counted in his weary head. The Songhoi was nearly upon him now. He showed no sign of fear other than the wide-eyed expression that had laced his handsome young face, but deep down inside the fear was mounting with the Songhoi's every step. Finally, the warrior was a mere three feet away.

  


Now was the time for his advantageous surprise. With a war cry of his own, Quadamah quickly unsheathed his scimitar, as the warrior could not stop in time to take any countermeasures. The Songhoi plunged forward unable to stop his forward momentum and was greeted by the blade of Quadamah as it sliced his abdomen open. A look of shock and disbelief laced his features as he looked down on the sight of his intestines spilling forth in a pile on the sandy earth. 

  


His heart beating even faster than before, Quadamah waited for the warrior to look up. When he did, Quadamah took his bloody scimitar and plunged it straight through his chest, slicing flesh and bone easily with its razor sharpness. The warrior continued to stare into Quadamah's eyes as he began his descent to the ground, still a look of disbelief lacing his rough features. 

  


The Songhoi warrior, though menacing and fierce, had met a young man who had proved to be more than his match in wits. Quadamah leaned over his enemy and watched unfeeling, as the warrior's breaths grew faster and shallow. Even though this warrior was one who had taken great pleasure in the torment of others, Quadamah wished for his death to arrive. He never did like seeing the suffering of others and was quite perturbed with his own self when he felt a small measure of sorrow for this warrior. His heart felt the remorse, but his mind told him that the warrior deserved it. Finally the warrior drew his last breath, eyes still open wide in bewilderment of how in a matter of seconds, the tables had turned and now faced an eternity in hell for the atrocities he had committed in his lifetime. That look would last until his body turned to dust. But that look would forever live in Quadamah's heart; the look of shock of an enemy too sure of himself. 

  



	19. Chapter 19

Here we go. Sorry it is so late in coming. I also hope that last chapter didn't scare any of you all off. I promise it's gonna get better, just wait and see!

To my wonderful readers:

To my two newest readers, Kathy and Lanfear. Glad to know that you both are enjoying the story! And Kathy, I'm sorry that I'm so late in uploading the newest addition. Life has not been too kind lately and it's a wonder I have any hair left on my head. But thanks so much for emailing me with your inquiry. Email me anytime, in fact! Glad to hear from you!

Deana: Yeah, I know, I'm terrible. I beat up Ardeth's mother! I know, don't say it, I'm mean, mean, mean! As far as Quadamah is concerned, I tried to visualize my own self having a huge crazy maniac running at me with a deadly weapon. It worked, lol, because my heart was racing when wrote that part. Glad you enjoyed it, my friend. And thanks, btw, for always being there for me and beta'ing this story for me!

Mommints: Glad you thought the chap was intense enough, my friend! I tried to make it as strong in that area as possible. What was really strange was that I really got into the whole scene and it was the easiest chapter to write thus far. Kinda made me feel like I'm barbaric or something because it was just too easy, lolol.

P.S. I absolutely love Hero's and I understand completely what you are talking about concerning Rick and Ardeth. Absolutely brothers in every possible way other than blood. If you think about it, blood doesn't necessarily make you family, hearts do. Glad you liked the little poem I sent you! I couldn't help myself because all I could think of when I read that particular part of it was Nabil, Nabil, Nabil (yeah, I'm his own personal cheerleader)!!!

Angela: Yeah the poor guy 'is' a major train wreck and it's gonna take, oops, can't say it yet, dagummit! And I want to tell you so bad, lol. Well, maybe I'll catch ya late one night and fill you in. Glad you are enjoying, bud! Yeah, it would be nice if he were real and we could all smother him with comfort, oooh, I better stop thinking about that, lolol!

Patty: I was thinking on the same line. By all rights, Ardeth should have been granted death but I was just too mean to give in to the urge. Of course, if I killed him off, then Zouhir's plans would not work out. Oh well, we'll see, huh? And thanks so much for the wonderful compliments, my friend! I'm blushing!

Tasha: Just enought fingers left, huh? LOL, well I wonder if you'll have any left at all by the time this is all over. Yes, the poor guy will have a happy ending to compensate for all the torment he's been through. I'm glad to know you are enjoying this despite all the agony I am putting Ardeth and Co. through.

J-James: I agree with you. It would be much worse to watch someone you love being tortured. Sorry girl! This chapter isn't going have Ardeth and the others languishing in a bed of roses yet, lolol! But I promise that very soon it's gonna get better (probably next chapter if I stop being so long-winded, lol) for our fav Medjai and the rest as well.

Anya: Well Anna, if you're sick then you have lots of company, lol! Thanks so much for the compliment and I promise Ardeth's suffering is not over yet, not by a long shot. Glad you are enjoying Endless.

BTW– I'm back in functioning mode (hopefully it's permanent) and will have your chappies for 'Red Like Blood' back to you in the next day or two. My sincere apologies but I've been accosted with multiple RL problems and have had little access to a computer.

Marxbros: Thanks for the compliment! As far as Quadamah is concerned, he's been under the guidance of Uzmir and his fighting skills are top-notch despite his being a victim of the impetuousness of youth. In my mind, I could justify his overcoming the much larger Songhoi because of both the skill and his impetuous nature. Glad you are enjoying the story!

Karri: LOL, I tried to make it as intense as possible. I'm trying to perfect my writing skills in that area so it will have better imagery. Thanks for the compliment, my friend! Glad you like it.

Aulizia: I'm sorry I made you cry but if it makes you feel any better, I cried when I was writing it. Seriously, I did! Thank you so much for the wonderful compliment, my friend! Soon, very soon (hopefully next chap) a ray of hope will be peeking through.

Okie dokie ladies, here goes. If I missed anyone, my sincere apologies. Happy reading!

ENDLESS LOVE

CHAPTER 19

Bahir knew that their proximity to the oasis was very close now and he could not wait much longer to arrive, for the pain he was experiencing was beyond words. He needed to get there. The pain was evident in the expression on his face and he could not hide it from the others.

Jonathan watched the warrior that he'd known for a long time now, and the look on Bahir's face wasn't lost to Jonathan. He waited for a few minutes, giving Bahir time to be lost in his thoughts. Those precious few moments in time given in to one's feelings could prove profitable, or it could prove disastrous if the person wasn't stable. Bahir was more than stable. He was more like a pliable metal, one who possessed a tempered strength through the many fires he had been though, but still pliable enough to not lose his human touch. One who had a great respect for others, whether they are known or unknown to him. Jonathan was proud to call him Friend.

"How much farther is it?" Jonathan asked, hoping he'd given Bahir enough time to delve into his personal feelings.

Bahir stared off directly ahead and pointed to an unknown area, which amazed Jonathan, as always. How could these people, though desert people they were, know how to judge distances of the endless desert sand? Considering there were no streets to guide them and no signs posted with directions to specific destinations to take advantage of. Jonathan had great admiration for those who could determine destinations just by using positions of stars or the sun.

"It is roughly ten more miles. I'm taking out a scouting party shortly and would be honored if you would join us," Bahir said, giving Jonathan a sincere invitation.

Bahir had known that Jonathan was hiding his fears quite bravely for the sake of Alex. All of the warriors were hiding their fear and anticipation of the worst quite well. Each man had to face their own fears and any one of them that denied their inward fear was a liar to his own self. But each man had acted admirably, with the exception of their captives who continued to antagonize. Fremantle continued his diatribe against Jonathan, to which he was rebutted with Jonathan's wit.

Jonathan looked at Bahir, in shock at the invitation. He had been given the opportunity to join a scouting party. Never, since he had known the Medjai, had they asked him to join a scouting party. Jonathan felt rather honored at the prospect. Smiling at Bahir, but knowing that they may very well come into harm's way, he nodded.

"My friend, I accept your gracious offer. I would be honored to accompany you and the rest of the men on the mission," he said, smiling.

Bahir gave Jonathan a sincere smile and nodded back, recognizing his acceptance of the offer.

"One thing, my friend," said Bahir. "It will be even more dangerous than any of the missions that the scouts have been sent on as of yet. We are very close to the oasis; there is no telling how many warriors they have posted as sentries throughout the desert expanse between here and there. We are going to go as close to the oasis as possible and if the warriors are relatively small in number or if any urgent conditions warrant it, we will attack, Bahir told him, gravely. "There is a great chance that some of us, possibly all of us, for that matter may not be able to return, as we do not know exactly what we are facing."

Jonathan swallowed hard with that knowledge. He had thought that the scouts were just going to observe and wait for the others to arrive or return to join them. But thoughts of his sister being there changed his mind and a firm fortitude replaced the doubt and fear. No matter what, he would go to rescue his sister. If it meant dying in the process, at least he would have tried. Ardeth had once told Jonathan that true courage was facing your worst fear and overcoming it. He remembered Ardeth's wise words as if he had spoken them yesterday. So, he would face his fear for his sister and bring her back, or die trying.

Alex had wondered what was up when he saw Jonathan conversing with Bahir. Always the inquisitive one, he had been barraging Quadir with many questions concerning the London Medjai and how they managed to stay rather invisible in everyday life. But the moment he saw the look on Jonathan's face as he talked to Bahir, Alex deterred the conversation and politely excused himself, as Jonathan was now heading back toward his former location in front of his proverbial nemesis.

"Well, well, what have 'we' been up to now?" queried Fremantle. "Finding vital locations of large boulders that 'you' may slither under while the warriors are valiantly butchered by the mighty Songhoi?"

Jonathan ignored the impudent man, choosing not to fall for his badgering. Instead, he continued to stare ahead of himself, watching the slight shift in direction by the front of the entourage.

Alex hurriedly followed behind Jonathan wearing a particular expression that was commonly seen on his young face. He was extremely curious as to what had transpired between Bahir and Jonathan. Jonathan wasn't saying a word, as his thoughts were on what would come to pass. Alex couldn't take it any longer. He leaned forward on his horse and gave Jonathan a curious look. Realizing his nephew was near bursting with the curiosity, he looked over at him, smiling.

"Yes, Alex, what is it?" Jonathan asked.

"What's going on, Uncle Jon?" asked Alex. "I saw your expression and Bahir's too and I know something is happening. Well, what is it?"

"A scouting party is being sent out," Jonathan said. "And Bahir asked me to join them on the mission."

"Ooooh! Uncle Jon, when do we leave? When, when, Uncle Jon?!" Alex asked excitedly.

"You're not going anywhere, young man!" Jonathan said sternly. "You are going to stay within the bounds of safety with the majority of the warriors right here."

Alex threw him a look that showed his ultimate displeasure in being left out of such an important mission. Quadir had told him shortly before that they were in close proximity to the oasis and Alex had already been excited about that revelation. Crossing his arms over his chest, Alex looked at Jonathan through mere slits for eyes as his displeasure grew. "I'm going with you!" Alex retorted.

Jonathan looked at his little nephew and understood his need to help find his mother, father and dear friend. Alex was way beyond his years concerning wisdom. In fact, he had been through so much when the Scorpion King had risen. But now wasn't the time to argue about such a formidable and bloodthirsty foe such as the Songhoi. Jonathan knew he would have to take some stern measures in order to make his nephew stay put within the confines of the group. He didn't want to hear that he had found a way to slip away and wind up in a worse predicament than they were already in.

"My dear child, you are going to die," sneered Fremantle from behind the two. "And Uncle Jonathan isn't going to be able to do 'anything' about it! What a pitiful shame it shall be."

Alex's concentration was broken, as well as his glaring stare at his uncle when Fremantle uttered his threatening words.

This was the last straw as Jonathan spurred his horse around, galloped the few yards between them and grabbed Fremantle by the scruff of his shirt. Jerking him wildly off balance, Jonathan stared eye to eye with his hated nemesis.

"It is one thing to threaten me, but another thing to threaten my nephew!" Jonathan snarled in Fremantle's face. "Before this is all over, 'you' will die! And die, my dear nemesis you will, and 'only' by my hands! This is no idle threat. This is my solemn promise to you."

Jonathan roughly shoved the man backwards on the saddle. Only the extra restraints kept the man from falling off the horse. Fremantle started to laugh at Jonathan's promise.

Jonathan motioned for Alex to follow him and they both headed for the front of the column. Fremantle's laughter echoed on the air, following them. Alex's face betrayed his fear, and Jonathan tried to comfort him. Alex had always shown incredible bravery from a very early age. Now, coming within close proximity to the threat of that horrible Songhoi tribe, Jonathan's fear for Alex had escalated. Unfortunately, there was not much that Jonathan could do for his dear nephew. Their fate had been fixed. Now, all they could do was wait and observe for the outcome of that fate.

The Medjai, though stalwart and dedicated to the innocent and firm resolve in taking down the enemy, couldn't completely hide their edginess as well. This enemy had been encountered on several occasions before, and they were their most formidable opponents by far. Because of the sheer size and physical strength of the Songhoi, the warriors all knew that they would have to rely on the many years of training, their expertise in the arts of war, both physical and mental. The battle tactics passed down from generation to generation, from the father to the son, would now be applied to the fullest extent that anyone had ever known. The Medjai would oppose the Songhoi on an infinitely grand scale. Surely, before this confrontation was at an end, it would be one that would be recorded in the annals of Medjai history.

Jonathan watched his nephew intently. Trying to take Alex's mind off what Fremantle had said to him and the youngster, Jonathan motioned to Alex to watch as one of the Medjai warriors attached a note on a falcon's leg. Its destination was undoubtedly the Medjai at the Great Oasis, under the command of Shunnar. They both watched as the magnificent creature flapped its wings as it ascended high into the air heading in a more southerly direction. It had always amazed Jonathan how these birds knew where they were going and how they could differentiate between friend and foe. Thinking it for a good piece of conversational diversion, Jonathan began to comment on the beautiful bird.

"Alex, I've often wondered how those birds know where they are going. Have you ever asked Ardeth or any of the warriors how they do that?" Jonathan queried.

Alex sat on his horse and watched the falcon soar effortlessly on the wind. Its beauty invoked a tranquility that was felt by none. Alex felt the tension most of all as his thoughts wandered from their current predicament to what was happening to his parents and his friends, Ardeth and Shariyf.

"Ardeth told me that they were trained to do that," Alex said rather absently.

"Well yes, I understand that they were trained. I imagined that there would have been some form of training. But I was wondering how they were trained to be so correct in their destinations and identification skills," Jonathan added.

Alex turned his head from the faint image of the falcon in flight and looked at Jonathan intently. "Uncle Jon, I appreciate you trying to preoccupy my thoughts with other less significant issues. But there isn't a thing in the world that is going to cloud the issue concerning my parents or my friends. I am so worried about them! I hate these awful men who have hurt and killed so many for the sake of revenge. Revenge for what, Uncle Jon? The Medjai warriors are honorable men as well as all the Medjai that I have met. Yes, I know that in every race of people, you have your undesirables. And I'm sure that the Medjai are no exception. But I've never met a more honorable race of people than the Medjai. And to know that 'this' Zouhir was a Medjai and from what Bahir has told me, some of the men who follow him were Medjai as well. I just don't understand it. How could they have turned out to be wicked men?"

Alex paused a moment, eyes downcast, to collect his thoughts. He looked back up at Jonathan with confusion and deep concern evident in his eyes.

"I'm just confused because all the Medjai I have ever met are of good character. And now these Songhoi warriors are in league with Zouhir, which makes our problem even worse. If these warriors have indeed taken Mum, Dad, Ardeth and Shariyf hostage, what do you think these evil warriors have done to them? I fear for them, Uncle Jon," Alex finished, finally getting out all what was on his chest.

"Alex, my dear nephew," Jonathan said, marveling at such an incredible mind in such a small boy. "You are much too old for your years, child. I think that when all this is over and everything is right with the world once again, you can sit down with Ardeth and ask him all these things concerning the Medjai. I'm sure he'd be glad to be subject to your attention."

Deep inside Jonathan, a war was waging on. The thought of Evy possibly in the hands of these horrible men was much too much for him to handle. He was glad that Bahir had invited him on the scouting party. That would put him that much closer to his sister, if she were at the oasis. Inside, deep within the recesses of subliminal thought, he knew that she was there. And if the Songhoi at the oasis outnumbered the Medjai, then God help them.

The whole entourage came to a full stop at the wave of Uzmir's hand. He knew that the scouting party was soon to head out and wanted to talk to Bahir first. Now the initial start of the danger had begun. The proximity to the oasis was so near; the seasoned warrior could sense the slight moisture in the otherwise dry air. They were close, very close. The closer, the more imminent the threat of danger that would hang over their heads like a cloud of impending doom.

Uzmir and Quadir galloped over to where Bahir was giving orders and choosing warriors to form the scouting party. He had chosen twelve men, leaving twice that many or more in the main entourage. He was giving out orders to them, explaining the strategy to be used when they approached the perimeter of the oasis. Silently, the two listened to Bahir and acquiesced their own command, giving leverage to Bahir. Uzmir knew that Bahir was more than capable of a strategic plan of attack, as he was Ardeth's Honored Second.

"Bahir, my friend," Uzmir said while formally saluting him. "All is ready?"

Bahir bowed his head in acknowledgment. "Yes Uzmir, we are ready to depart."

"We will not be far behind you after you reach the oasis. The most time we shall be distanced by will be roughly fifteen minutes," Uzmir added.

"You are going to divert entirely off the southerly course?" Bahir queried. "With all due respect sir, I thought you intended to continue going south toward The Caverns while we searched the small oasis. Or have you learned more from other sources?"

"Bahir, I have learned much from one source—you," said Uzmir. "Never have I seen such a connection with another human being than what I've seen with you and Ardeth. I know he is there as well as I know the Songhoi are there. You will need the full strength of our company of warriors to combat our foe and rescue our king and those who accompanied him there."

Bahir looked at Uzmir, understanding now what he was referring to. It had been most difficult to hide what he was feeling, and the pain and suffering he was tormented by was impossible to hide. Uzmir must have been watching him rather closely to determine that it had worsened as they neared. Truth to be known, it was to the point of being unbearable now. Hideous, unprecedented pain had accosted him about an hour earlier and had only intensified each and every agonizing minute of that hour. He was sure that Ardeth or Shariyf, or both were under great torment now. Ever since childhood, the three shared an incredible link between them and under times of great duress, it was as if they reached out to each other, either to alert the others or to receive needed comfort from the connection. This time, it was great pain that was being divulged. But which of the two were subjected to it?

"We have always had this unique ability to sense one another's feelings. Shariyf and I as well," Bahir told him. "Something is terribly wrong. It is not like I had been feeling before, after we left for Cairo from the village. I know what that felt like. It was bad enough. This is beyond comprehension, what I'm feeling. I need to find Ardeth. I need to find them both!" Bahir said with firm conviction.

"I pray that it is not as bad as it seems, Bahir," Uzmir said, hopefully. "May Allah go with you, my friend."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Shocked expressions covered all the faces of the onlookers. Shariyf and Abdul stood firmly planted in front of Rick and Ardeth, their faces showing a defiance that the Songhoi found rather amusing. The whip-wielding warrior looked towards the two and shook his head, quite enjoying the little game.

"Well, you wish to shield them, do you? Then you shall reap your reward a little early," the warrior said, wickedly. "But not yet."

The warriors approached the four men. Several more warriors closed in around them, forming a circle. Two of the warriors roughly grabbed Shariyf and Abdul, forcing them to their knees on the sand before the pole of torment. Rick was still in front of Ardeth, desperately trying to protect him, but that ended quickly as another of the Songhoi grabbed hold of Rick and forced him to the ground as well, leaving Ardeth open to any torment the Songhoi deemed appropriate.

His head was bowed low, but his eyes were wide open, glaring with the revelation of searing pain running in unstoppable torrents throughout his body. Ardeth silently begged for death, but death was much too far off for his desperate need. There still was too much time to suffer before he would succumb to its grip. He could feel it's wispy tendrils touching him, taunting him. Ardeth knew that death loomed over him, but it was just out of his grasp.

The Songhoi warrior who had wielded the whip walked up, standing directly in front of Ardeth's battered and torn form. He grasped a hold of Ardeth's hair and jerked his head backwards.

Ardeth's eyes were still wide open, staring into the depths of nothingness. Great struggles for a mere decent breath had rendered his lips a pale blue hue.

The warrior smiled mockingly at Ardeth. Finally, they had him. A king, though still a mortal man, subject to all the afflictions and pain that any other human being would feel. But nevertheless, there was something about him that held the Songhoi warrior's curiosity. This king was Medjai, and the Medjai knew many secrets to all the wealth of Egypt, and secrets to power. The Songhoi warrior decided that he would possess this wealth and power, and, as he was the second to the chieftain, he would deny the other warriors the right to this great king's blood, which they all had waited to consume. The two Medjai kneeling to his left and right would be sufficient to satiate their need for blood as these two men were undoubtedly two of the king's commanders. Their knowledge would be great as well, which would be sufficient for his subordinates. But the king's blood and all the power contained in it was his alone. He would use this great power and well-guarded knowledge of the secrets that only this young king possessed to his advantage and take control over his own chieftain, thereby gaining power over the entire Songhoi tribe.

The warrior took a dagger from his belt, smiling inwardly that he would inflict yet more pain upon this Medjai before he drew his last breath. Looking directly into the Medjai king's eyes, he raised the dagger menacingly in front of the dying warrior, savoring the moment and the look in his blood sacrifice's eyes.

Ardeth had been told much about the Songhoi by his father and grandfather when they both had prepared him for his future role of chieftain. He knew of their ruthless behavior and bizarre customs. Although neither his grandfather nor father had witnessed any of the rituals, the information had been passed down from generation to generation. All the chieftains had to know every detail of all their adversaries for the preservation of their own race of people. Ardeth now faced one of the most dangerous adversaries he was ever faced with, utterly helpless to do anything that would prove advantageous to his predicament. He was near death and knew what this Songhoi warrior wanted now. Ardeth's weary mind wondered if there was any truth in the matter concerning the consuming of the blood sacrifice and the power and knowledge received from it. If it were so, then his people were doomed.

Shallow ragged breaths issued forth from Ardeth's mouth as the Songhoi warrior stared hauntingly into his eyes. The blade of the dagger slowly traveled over his chest and shoulder, leaving a thin bloody cut until the warrior was at Ardeth's blood streaked left arm. With a wicked smile dancing across his face and never breaking eye contact with his victim; he slowly pierced Ardeth's skin, sliding it effortlessly through the muscled arm. Ardeth flinched as the intruding blade burned his flesh, slicing through effortlessly, exuding a chilling heat as it impacted against bone. Ardeth couldn't help the weak gasp that escaped his lips. Blood ran freely over the Songhoi's hand, who encouraged it to flow even more by prying the wound open.

"NO!" Rick screamed at the warrior as he witnessed the man twist the blade, but his frantic demand for mercy fell on deaf ears. Nothing would stop him now. Soon he would revel in the taste of the Medjai King's blood. The warrior looked at Rick with the ultimate bloodlust glittering in his eyes.

Still wearing the hideous smile, the warrior reached inside a robe pocket and retrieved a small drinking cup. He placed the cup against Ardeth's newest wound and let it overflow with the mighty king's blood.

Shariyf, Abdul, and Rick, still kneeling around Ardeth as they were forced to watch this new torment, were sickened when they saw the warrior bring the cup to Ardeth's arm. They knew what this animal's plans were and knew that as soon as he finished drinking Ardeth's blood, the torture would commence once again.

Rick was beside himself with grief. He had tried to protect Ardeth from these vicious animals and failed. Shariyf continued to silently beg Allah to end Ardeth's life now, thereby sparing him from additional agony while on the other hand, Abdul begged Allah to allow him to somehow trade places with Ardeth.

A flood of panicked screams could be heard from the women and children as they saw what was happening to this poor suspended man. Whether they knew him personally or not, their hearts were filled with grief at the horrific image of a protector of man, a warrior of God, a Medjai, beaten and bloodied nearly beyond recognition as the level of his torment was elevated once more. Most of the women had thought that he would have died much sooner than this. He had proven them wrong and now it only prompted more suffering for his tortured body.

Ardeth looked away from the warrior as the cup of his blood was held high for all the other Songhoi to see. Darkness was closing in around him, spiraling down, tugging and taunting him to follow. He could see faces, many faces of family, friend and foe pass before his eyes. Many events in his life; happy times, sad ones and times of great turmoil replayed in sequence, from childhood through his adult life. Each one passed until he saw the last beautiful memory he had experienced before he had left the village that ill-fated day. The last joyous moment in his life; his beautiful Bahiyaa playing with Alia and Ablaa in their home the night before he was to leave. It was shortly before he was to tell them stories, sing lullabies and tuck them lovingly into bed. The images of them playing and laughing in front of the fire warmed his heart despite the agony he felt. His tortured mind fixated on this last happy moment, refusing to relent its hold on it.

Now, his body was succumbing to the numbness that was in his arms from lack of circulation. The numb feeling was beginning to spread over the entirety of his body. Ardeth welcomed it. Death was near, very near.

Loud cheers of the Songhoi drowned out the screams of the innocent as the moment long awaited for finally became a reality. The Songhoi warrior tried to get the attention of his victim but was unsuccessful as the man had hidden deep inside the recesses of his own thoughts or was possibly caressing the precipice of death. Deeming it nonessential for his victim to watch, he turned to let the kneeling men and others witness his consuming of the blood.

He lifted the cup to his lips and drank heartily from it. Blood flowed from the corners of his mouth as he relished it as only a Songhoi could. A deathly silence fell over the oasis as everyone watched the hideous act. The warrior closed his eyes and waited for the transferal of the great secrets.

At first there was nothing at all. No visions to be had. Then with a mighty force that the warrior was unprepared for, vision after vision of unfathomable caches of information accosted his senses. His body spasmed in response to the invasive attack on his mind and the warrior lost his balance and fell to the ground. Writhing on the sand, his eyes glazed over with an all-consuming look. His entire being was subjected to the shock of the mystical event.

Soon, it was all over and the warrior lay still upon the sand, shutting his eyes as soon as it had reached completion. Now exhausted, he lay on the ground savoring the few minutes he needed to rebuild some much needed strength. Opening his eyes, he looked around at his fellow Songhoi who had gathered to watch the spectacle. He felt as if his entire being had been newly rejuvenated.

The three men still knelt before the Medjai king, staring nervously at their friend. He didn't look alive. His head rested against his strained shoulder and the blood-flow from the stab wound had all but diminished. Whether it had slowed on its own accord or if he was nearly depleted of blood was anyone's guess. Everyone and everything within possible reach had been splattered with his blood, making for an incredibly grisly scene.

The newly rejuvenated Songhoi stood strong and sure of himself as he met the eyes of his other warriors. They all seemed to wear the same expression–disappointment. They had wanted to partake in the king's blood. Now, it looked as though the king had died, as very little blood was issuing forth from his wounds and his body hung completely listless.

The warrior smiled smugly at his subordinates and barked out orders to see if the king was indeed dead.

They started towards the suspended form, passing the three kneeling men. Great sorrow as well as relief weighed heavily on Rick, Abdul, and Shariyf's hearts. Sorrow for the great suffering and slow agonizing death of a greatly loved friend and brother, but relief for knowing that his suffering was finally over.

One of the warriors reached to lay his fingers against Ardeth's throat. He turned his head slightly towards his commander and nodded that Ardeth was still alive, but barely. The commander smiled at hearing this and ordered the men to prepare to partake in the blood sacrifice.

"These kneeling whelps are undoubtedly commanders of the king's," the commanding warrior said. "They will be rich with knowledge and power. You may partake of their blood."

"The king is still alive, why do you deny us his?" a disgruntled warrior asked.

"His blood was mine to receive, and mine alone!" the commanding warrior snapped, shoving the dagger sharply against the warrior's throat. "You may have the other two's blood. If you are not satisfied with theirs, then you can partake of your own!"

The warrior backed off, slightly elevating his hands in a sign of submission. He decided that the blood of these two Medjai would serve just as well.

Aggravated and tired of all their energy focusing on one man, the Songhoi commander was eager to get on with the torture of the other Medjai. His hate ran deep for their kind and the deaths of two more would please him greatly. He smiled with that thought and motioned for the warriors holding the three down to release them and distance themselves. He readied his faithful whip and prepared to unleash his fury once more.

Quickly, he drew back the whip and with a fast forward motion, the whip connected with Abdul and the shock of the intense pain caused a loud gasp to escape his lips. The whip was wrapped around his body still, with the shards of metal and broken glass biting deep into his flesh. His arms had still been doubly bound behind him as a precautionary measure but now his wrists were no longer tied, the sharpness of the whip having taken care of that.

The Songhoi warrior pulled sharply on the whip, taking Abdul down to the ground with the effort. Shariyf and Rick could hear the fabric of Abdul's robes rip harshly as the whip dragged along his body. New, bright blood became visible through the tears in Abdul's robe.

Shariyf, still firmly bound, stood and hurriedly ran to Abdul's side, kneeling once again by his side. Waves of pain-filled tremors coursed through Abdul's body. Shariyf's expression bore that of sorrow and hurt for his friend as he watched Abdul shudder with the pain.

"Abdul!" he whispered.

Abdul struggled to rise, his head bowed low. Shariyf could see the grimace of pain turn into a look of anger as his jaw tightened. Abdul had been through so much in his life, so much torment and deprivation. The anger began to build in him at all the hurt he had been subjected to. The anger worsened at the fact that he had been made to suffer silently and watch the fading images of those who had been murdered by his former father. His thoughts turned quickly to his mother and how the woman had despised his very existence since he was only five years old…how he was made to believe that it was 'his' fault for the way his father had turned out.

How many times had he felt alone, without a real home or family? His suffering heart could not bear the brutalizing of Ardeth, his Chieftain; the man who had reached out to him time after time from early childhood and throughout the following years to offer solace and show his acceptance and confidence in him. Abdul's mental visuals turned to Shatarra; how Zouhir's men had abducted her, tormented her in the desert and caused her unimaginable suffering as she watched her beloved son being tortured…how the hideous Songhoi had made a mockery of her brave attempt to save her son by beating and kicking her as she begged them for mercy.

His mental picture changed to the scene of Bahiyaa, Alia, and Ablaa. That bloody scene would forever remain a hideous scar upon his heart. Their faces, etched into eternity with the look of untold horror and fear as they were mercilessly killed.

"Abdul?" Shariyf said, a little louder.

Abdul turned to look into the waiting eyes of his friend. Never in all the years that Shariyf had known Abdul, had he seen such anger reflect in his eyes. This pain and anger Abdul was feeling was like a cancer, it continued to grow in scale with each confrontation at this oasis; anger fueled by an uncontrollable hate.

Abdul unexpectedly lunged forward at Shariyf, knocking him flat on his back.

Shariyf was startled at the sudden attack from Abdul, but found out quickly the reason for his action as the whip again came across Abdul's back. Shariyf realized that Abdul had moved to protect him, purposely landing directly on top of him. He cringed when he felt Abdul's body shudder from the impact of the cruel weapon.

Rolling off Shariyf quickly, Abdul grabbed hold of the whip that still dug into his flesh. Rising shakily, his face became transparent with the silent rage roaring through his overtaxed senses.

Abdul's hold on the whip tightened and the glass and metal tore deeply into his hands. He wrapped several rounds of the whip around his right arm and with a quick jerk—which was enhanced by the adrenaline pumped rage—he pulled the oversized Songhoi warrior forward, who lost his balance and fell facedown in the sand.

Shariyf watched incredulously as Abdul's blood dripped into the sand, even more heavily when he started to rip the glass and metal-laden whip from his hands, arm and body. Blood splattered on Shariyf as he watched his fellow comrade and friend finish removing the bloody whip.

Turning towards Shariyf, Abdul had the whip still in one hand and without a word, he used the sharp jagged glass embedded in the whip to slice through his friend's confines.

When Shariyf was free, Abdul rose and headed for the Songhoi warrior, who was just rising from the ground, still rather stunned at what had just transpired.

As Shariyf watched, he suddenly felt himself harshly gripped from behind. The warrior who had given Ardeth the potion grabbed Shariyf by the hair, jerking him back roughly and landing the smaller man against the hard muscles of his chest, pressing a sharp blade against his throat as Shariyf tried to regain his balance.

"Medjai, you want to play, eh?" the Songhoi yelled to Abdul.

Abdul turned his head around, not at all surprised that these warriors would use someone as leverage. "No, my overgrown adversary," he snarled. "Unless your play consists of my spilling your 'own' blood."

The warrior laughed at Abdul's statement, regarding it as empty.

Abdul dropped the bulk of the whip loosely to the ground.

The warrior who had originally possessed the whip stared at Abdul, wondering what his next action would be.

Abdul didn't move, continuing to stare at the warrior holding Shariyf in a death-grip. The knife was pressed tightly against Shariyf's throat, drawing blood…

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Quadamah moved quickly towards the tents in his covert mission. As he gained ground, he realized that most of the Songhoi were preoccupied in the middle of the camp. No warriors could be seen around the camp's boundary and Quadamah found the entrance to the tent perimeter to be easy. _'Too easy,'_ he thought to himself. Something of a prodigious magnitude was obviously occurring in the middle of the camp. He feared for what that might be, as he knew that the Songhoi were in hot pursuit of his king. Quadamah closed his eyes tightly, offering up a silent prayer to Allah that his worst fear would not come to pass.

Moving closer, ever so slowly, he managed to make it to the tent nearest the clearing. Looking around the edge of the tent's side, Quadamah's eyes widened in horror at the spectacle laid before him. Blood. Blood covered the clearing as if a great deluge had rained down blood instead of water. Screams emanated from every area of the clearing, adding to the chaos and nearly deafening him. He looked at the center of attention in the middle of the clearing. Quadamah's heartbeat intensified with the horror before him. A man, battered and beaten, was suspended from a large pole. His features were unrecognizable, but Quadamah knew him well. He knew that it was his king, and grief overcame him.

His eyes shut tight and an anguished sigh forced it's way through his clenched jaws. He didn't know if his king was dead or alive. Some brave soul was standing in front of his suspended body, desperately trying to shield him from the deadly whip that sailed through the air. Only when the whip made impact did he finally realize that the suspended man was still alive, barely though it seemed. Both men reacted with the pain from the assault. The shielding form of the man shifted his position slightly to compensate when the whip was jerked back, tearing flesh from both men. Quadamah saw the face of the man, knowing now that the protector was Rick O'Connell.

Tears brimmed in his eyes as he scanned the immediate surrounding area and saw Ardeth's mother rocking back and forth, crying uncontrollably, reaching out helplessly with withered hands towards her son while two women embraced her in an attempt to comfort. He could see that she had been brutalized as well.

The tears flowed freely down his young face, not knowing what to do in this situation. Never before had he ever seen such brutality inflicted upon anyone. He had to do something, but what?

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The scouting party had the oasis within sight. As they closed in, Bahir's anxiety rose tremendously. He could see the tents, could hear the screams. They all could. Jonathan was beside himself now with knowing that the Songhoi indeed were here in great number, and they more than likely had his sister. He looked to Bahir, desperately wanting to know what the plan of action was going to be.

Bahir started barking out orders to the warriors and turned to face him, a grave expression on his face.

Jonathan spared a glance as he saw the warriors disperse in various directions, in sets of two.

"Jonathan, you will come with me," Bahir stated, his jaw firmly set. "We will go forward as the others go and flank the enemy. We cannot wait for Uzmir. Help will arrive, and I hope it is earlier than fifteen minutes."

"Are we actually going in to attack before the rest get here?" Jonathan asked, anxious to rescue his sister. "We should be able to make a dent in them, right?"

Bahir continued to look forward, unable to determine what would be the right answer to Jonathan's question. A dent, yes, but they very well might die trying.


End file.
